The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts
by ordinaryguy2
Summary: It's the day of the First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the last people that Harry ever expected to be there to see him before he was to face the dragon was the Dursleys, or even the other revelations that would be revealed. H/Hr. Some Draco bashing.
1. Chapter 1

**The Day The Dursleys** **Came To Hogwarts**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

_-I thought I'd try my hand at a Harry Potter story. I'd been thinking how every plot idea had been used up to make fanfiction, so I thought I'd see if I could uncover some and make it interesting enough for people to read. Hopefully you will like it enough to send a review. And even if you don't send a review, I hope you liked it._

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Harry followed behind his Head of House who was escorting him. As an explanation for this, she said that all of the Champions were allowed to see their families before the First Task. But it puzzled Harry as to who she could be referring to as the '_family_' for him, but decided to not ask as she had just a bit of a smile as if she were about to give him a pleasant surprise. What worried him was that he could only assume that this was a Tri-Wizard tradition for in case the worse happens, done so that then the Champion had at least been able to see their family again before tragically dying. He was still having a hard time believing that he was being forced to compete like this.

At the thought of dying, as well as the terrible means by which his death would conclude, a terrible shiver went down his back, making him fall a further step behind Professor McGonagall. How could anyone put teenagers against dragons even if they had been selected as Champions? They were students, and he was younger than the rest of the contestants by three years. Were they trying to get them all killed? Was there betting on how many of them would die or be horribly maimed? He wouldn't put it past Draco to have started a betting pool on something like that. At least the Weasley twins didn't include dying as one of the choices in their betting pool.

He was so deep into thoughts of his very possible upcoming demise that he almost crashed into his Head of House when she came to an abrupt stop, still having to awkwardly put some of his momentum towards twisting to the side to keep from brushing against her backside. That would have not gone over well.

"Severus! What is the meaning of this?"

The sound of extreme outrage was the first thing to clue Harry in that something was very wrong. It didn't even take Harry a second as to know just how wrong things truly were.

The rotund frame of his uncle, Vernon Dursley, was extremely evident just behind the tall, thin frame of his potions professor, Severus Snape, even with his billowing robes. Also in evidence was Harry's cousin, Dudley, who was poking at a moving painting of a group of knights with a stick a bit further down the hall. His aunt Petunia was also there and had her nose pointed up as if to show she was above this '_freaky_' place, but her eyes betrayed her as they darted all over, drinking in every magical wonder that she could see even as she picked at her scalp.

It was Snape's sneer turning into more of a smirk that drew Harry's attention back to him. "You yourself mentioned that each '_champion_' were to have a brief visit with their family before the First Task. I thought Potter should have the same opportunity." He paused dramatically. "In case he were to not survive.."

"Severus!" If she was angry before, now she was ready to spit nails. One of her cubs was going to be forcibly put in front of a dragon –a nesting dragon at that– for a contest in which he shouldn't even be competing. A contest that had been banned due to the high death rate of its competitors as well as spectators. And in her opinion, anyone with half a brain had to know that Harry wouldn't have entered himself in the first place, but that, unfortunately, included a vast majority of the wizarding population. Not that Severus ever seemed to need a reason to be cruel to Harry. "You know that is not what I meant, you-you-you **fowl, greasy-haired git**!"

Minerva McGonagall's bombshell outburst caught everyone off-guard, leaving Snape, the Dursleys, one Third Year Ravenclaw, a couple First Year Hufflepuffs, as well as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil who were just passing by, with their mouths gapping.

"It's bad enough with the abuse you heap on him every year, in and out of class, constantly sniveling about how much he is like his father, when anyone with a mote of intelligence can see that he is actually more like his mother!" she continued her rant, letting all her bottled up frustrations over the years pour out against this unbelievable, bitter, antagonistic man. "And maybe that is why you dislike him so! Because of Lily! And all because she became Lily Potter instead of Lily Snape! Well it's over and done with so get over it already! Because from now on I will be making sure that you treat him like a proper student! In fact, from now on I will be making sure that you are treating all the students with the proper respect they deserve! I don't care what Albus says about it anymore! You will be answering to me from now on! So by tomorrow you had better have changed your teaching style to be more like Slughorn's or you are out of here! And trust me, I will be checking on you! And if Albus interferes with my judgment again, I'll take my many findings to the _Daily Prophet_! Then all the parents of all the children you have bullied and hindered can join forces to take you away from here! Hopefully in chains!"

Snape was starting to shake as his face began to purple. The magical buildup around him was starting to just become visible when a quick spell from behind suddenly knocked him out.

The small frame of Professor Flitwick stood with a toothy grin behind Snape's crumpled form, twirling his wand with a surprising amount of speed that would have left a baton twirler envious. "I thought I'd stun him before he burst a blood vessel. That's how Milton the Obnoxious died, you know." Looking down on his fellow teacher, he began to tisk. "I think I shall bring him to the hospital wing so that Madame Pomfrey can examine him. Can't be too careful now, can we?"

McGonagall eyed the half-Goblin teacher as she tried to determine his reasoning. After all, Flitwick always had a reason for the things that he did. It was usually just a matter of determining the method to his erratic behavior. At times he could be as bad as Dumbledore, but his methods and results were much more to her approval. "I agree, but Poppy is stationed in the medical tent for the duration of the First Task."

Flitwick looked up at her, and shared a gin. "Then Severus will get some well-needed rest until she returns to the hospital wing, won't he?" He chuckled at his deviousness and shot her a wink. "Shame that he'll be missing the First Task." He managed a forlorn look as he gave a shake of his head.

Minerva brought her hand up to her face just in time to hide her smile, but quickly had herself under control again. "Very well, please do so then. It's unbecoming for a teacher to be sprawled out on the hall floor after all."

"I quite agree," Flitwick said with a slight chortle. "It's too bad we don't take House points from teachers. Though I shudder to think how far into the red the Slytherins would fall." Then with a quick levitation spell, he took the air bound Snape away amid a round of clapping from the wide-eyed students who had seen the soon to be legendary event.

"That's enough, students," McGonagall stated, blush beginning to color her cheeks as she thought about her impulsive actions in front of the students.

"I can't believe Lily was ever friends with him," said an unexpected voice.

Gaping at his aunt Petunia, Harry managed to say in a strangled voice, "Snape was friends with my mother? How is that even possible?"

She froze for a moment as she realized the information she had revealed to her nephew. She shuffled uneasily on her feet as she twisted a strand of her hair with her fingers. Finally she shrugged, as if to convey that she thought that the information wasn't that important. "He introduced her to the Wizarding world as you call it." She then studied her fingers for a moment before flicking whatever was on them away. "He lived near us at our childhood home in Spinner's End. His father was a brute of a man and often drunk. His mother was skinny like him and had the same haughty, hook-like nose held high despite the evident bruising that was frequently seen on her." She frowned as she gave her hair an extra tug. "That surprised me since Snape had told us that it was his mother that was the fr-, er, magical in the family."

Harry managed to nod as his aunt continued in her role as a natural gossip.

"He and Lily were about nine when they met. She was trying to figure out her abilities out in a nearby glen when that _Snape_," she said, stressing the name with extra venom, "began spying on her, then finally teaching her some of his fr-, er, magical tricks."

While this was all news to Harry, Vernon could not have cared less now that he had his freak of a nephew in front of him again. He wanted to smack him across the face for being the reason he had been brought here, but he didn't want to be on the business end of one of the many wands that were about. Even so, Vernon did know that words could inflict damage in place of a strike to the face or a stomp beneath his foot. "Boy, this professor of yours tells us that you've gotten yourself into quite a predicament; that you've signed yourself up for a dangerous contest that you were not even eligible for."

"I. Did. **Not!** Enter. Myself." Harry stood firm and refused to tremble in front of his uncle. Not here at Hogwarts.

"Then you probably got one of your older freaky friends to do it for you," he said casually with a wave of his hand.

Harry had flinched when Vernon had moved his hand, then felt embarrassed that he had reacted when clearly his uncle wasn't even about to hit him with so many witnesses around. The remark about his friends had scored a hit though. Most of his friends had abandoned him as soon as Harry's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. Ron had been a total prat; often bad-mouthing Harry within hearing range. Once the ginger turncoat could be heard bragging to have actually done many of the feats that were accredited to Harry over their first three years at Hogwarts.

Even the Weasley twins and the other members of the Gryffindor quidditch were giving him a wider berth now that he was persona non grata in the castle. Even his dorm mates had shut him out. All except for Neville. Neville ignored the grumblings of his housemates as he continued to talk and sit with the one that the rest had ostracized.

And then there was Hermione. She had planted herself at his side as soon as she knew that he was in trouble. With her at his side, he couldn't care less about the rest. Though he was glad for Neville's company.

Straightening himself, the teen took a deep breath before taking a determined stand against his uncle. "Once again, uncle, you show just how ignorant you are to what the facts really are." He glanced out at the students still milling around. "Not that you are alone in that category."

Vernon fumed at the brat's impudence in daring to speak back to him. "Don't be giving me any of your lip, boy!"

"I wasn't," the teen said through clenched teeth. "This year was supposed to be my chance to enjoy a nice, quiet year at school. A chance to sit back, relax and do my studies. Maybe even get my courage up to ask out one of the girls I'm interested in. Instead, I'm stuck in some deadly medieval tournament against my will."

He could feel the magic starting to build up around him. Harry worked quickly on slamming down on his emotions as he refused to break down here in an open hallway in front of all those present. Silently, he damned Vernon and Snape together. Taking another breath in, he idly wondered if he had somehow wandered into the presence of a boggart, but quickly dismissed it when he realized that Malfoy, Snape and Voldemort would have been present too for that to have qualified.

"So was that Snap fellow telling that truth that you have to face some huge monster all alone? Because that is the only reason that I agreed to come to this freaky place."

"Stop it, Vernon! Harry has more than enough things on his plate today. He doesn't need you coming down on him, too."

Both Vernon and his nephew looked back at Petunia with not a little bit of surprise. She gave her husband a reprehending eye that stood out despite her growing disarray of hair being caused by her scratching vigorously at the back of her head.

"Professor McGonagall?" spoke a blond Ravenclaw student. "Perhaps it might be more prudent to use one of Hogwart's conference rooms instead of the hall for a family meeting?" She tapped on the door to the room right behind her.

"A good suggestion, Miss Lovegood. Five points to Ravenclaw for a thoughtful solution to a… distasteful situation."

Casting a simple spell, the conference room door opened up to which Petunia marched right through. "Come along, Vernon, Dudley." Then after a pause she added, "Harry."

Minerva McGonagall paused in the doorway.

"Actually, Mr. Dursley, why don't I send you and your son to partake of some refreshments while Petunia and Harry talk?"

"You mean '_food_'?" called out Dudley who had lost complete interest in the moving paintings for now.

McGonagall was a bit surprised at just how dim Dudley seemed, and she has had to work with the likes of Ron Weasley, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle on a regular basis. It made her want to weep for the future. "Yes, food, Mr. Dursley." Turning to the hall, she hailed one of her Gryffindor students. "Miss Brown, I would like you to do something for me."

Lavender Brown quickly came forward, hoping to overhear anything to add to the gossip mill that was her life blood. A chance to obtain raw data from a muggle source about the early history of the secretive Harry Potter drove her to the front despite the disgusting stares she was receiving from the older male Dursley. "Yes, Professor McGonagall?"

"I would like you to take Mr. Dursley and his son to the kitchen for a bite to eat. I'm sure the house-elves will be very accommodating, as you are well aware."

Lavender blushed lightly, having been caught by her Head of House having a late night snack in the kitchen with an older Hufflepuff student she had been dating less than a fortnight ago. "Sure thing, professor."

Dudley was quick to follow after Lavender who had been joined by her friend Parvati, while Vernon hesitated only until he noted the glowing wand that Harry held clenched tightly in his hand. When Petunia waved for him to go, he decided to relent. After delivering a final glare back at his nephew, he went after his son and the two attractive, young witches.

With some hesitancy of his own, Harry followed his aunt inside. Stopping just inside the door, he watched as she walked over to the table and braced herself against it with both hands just before her body seemed to shudder for a minute.

Harry glanced over at McGonagall, but the only answer she gave him was to motion with her head to go over to his aunt, then followed that action by putting up some privacy wards. With reservations, he slowly closed the distance between them. Finally, standing right next to her, he put a hand onto her shoulder. "Aunt Petunia?"

He had not expected her to whirl toward him and envelope him in a hug that was almost akin to that of those given by Hermione. It was only as his shoulder seemed to become damp that he realized that his aunt was crying on his shoulder. This type of unusual situation had never happened to him before. Glancing back at his professor, she motioned that he should reach around his aunt and pat her gently on the back. He raised his eyebrows in alarm as if to indicate to her '_Are you serious!_' to which McGonagall made a more determined motion for him to do as she had suggested. Letting out a somewhat frustrated sigh, the teen wizard embraced his aunt and patted her on the back to which her response was to sob even more and louder, too.

Harry was trying to decide if the dragon was preferable to this situation, when his aunt started to separate from him. Professor McGonagall finally came forward after transfiguring a migrating dust bunny into a handkerchief to provide her with.

Having wiped away the tears and the minor amount of makeup that she wore, Harry's aunt blew her nose three times before taking a deep breath. "Oh, Harry, I've done so much wrong by you," she managed to say through her sniffles, all while still holding on to him.

Harry tried to think of something to say, but couldn't for the life of him think what it should be. She had done wrong by him. He'd been forced to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, often locked inside for long periods of time. He was starved and given tasks around the house that no one his age should be doing. He'd been beaten by Vernon and Dudley, and she had done nothing to stop it. She'd even punished Harry when he had done better than her Duddy-kins at school. Then there was the verbal abuse and the lies about his parents. The neglect. Nothing of his own; just worn out hand-me-downs from his over-large cousin.

"I had wanted to come here so badly as a child. I even wrote to that headmaster of yours, to beg to let me come."

Harry blinked in surprise. His aunt had wanted to come to Hogwarts when she was a kid? She had wanted to be one of the '_freaks_'?

"It seems so unfair that your mother, Lily, got to go and I didn't. Even though I never displayed any signs of magic, my heart wanted me to go to Hogwarts. Oh, how I wish I could explain it better than that. Just blaming it all on jealousy doesn't seem right."

She was holding him tightly against her chest again, much to his consternation, while running her fingers through his hair in what he could only assume was meant to be a mothering manner.

"Um, Aunt Petunia, what are you doing to my hair?"

"Hmm?" She glanced down at her hand with a bit of surprise. "Oh, sorry, Harry. It's just all those tiny creatures fluttering around your head and getting into your hair. I don't see how your can stand them."

"Ah, yeah, uh, don't take this the wrong way, but… to what creatures are you referring?"

She leaned back as she pulled at something in his hair. "These things, whatever they are," she said, putting her hand near his face, with her fingers pinched together. "They are practically swarming your head."

Harry stared at her fingers for a moment, but before he could tell his aunt that there was nothing between her fingers, someone else spoke up.

"You can see them, too? Merlin's beard! You can even touch them?! I've only heard legends of people capable of doing that!"

Three sets of eyes turned to someone that they hadn't realized was in the room with them.

"Miss Lovegood! What do you think you are doing there? This is meant to be a special time so that-"

"Please, professor," the blonde Ravenclaw spoke, hold her hand up for silence. "This is extremely more important." She then turned to the only other woman in the room. "Now, Mrs. Harry Potter's aunt, how long have you been able to see Wrackspurts?"

Harry snapped out of his bewilderment at this strange Ravenclaw who he thought was a year younger than him. Ron had mentioned her once when their paths crossed and said her name was Looney. It had stuck in Harry's head as he reflected on the unusual names that magical parents gave their children – Draco, Pansy, Millicent and Blaise, to name a few. But he hadn't dwelt on it long once he remembered that one of his closest friends was named Hermione, a name taken from a Shakespearian play. "Wait, are you saying that my aunt is really holding onto something?"

Now it was Petunia's turn to be alarmed as she held her hand farther out in front of her. "You mean you can't see these-these-what did you call them?"

"Wrackspurts!" Luna exclaimed excitedly.

"Whatever they are!" Petunia exclaimed with growing alarm. "What are they?"

"Oh, they aren't very dangerous," the Ravenclaw stated as a means to calm the woman down. "They are… well, they are believed to be the cause of general confusion in whose ever head they are infesting, as well as carry off random thoughts and whispers of them to each other and anyone else who happens to hear them." She then leaned in closer to examine Petunia's captive. "Hmm, as far as I can tell it's a-typical for a Wrackspurt in this region, but my Sight isn't the sharpest, leaving it rather blurry."

"It's not blurry at all to me," Petunia spoke with wonder at this revelation.

"Really," the Ravenclaw said with growing excitement. "Could I get you to draw a picture of it for me? Daddy would love the opportunity to print a clearly defined picture of a Wrackspurt in the next edition of The Quibbler. It's sure to replace the current front headline of the rising tension between redcaps and vampires."

Feeling more and more overwhelmed, Petunia decided she needed a new starting point so she could collect some of herself. "Let's back up a moment, please. Now I'm Harry's aunt – Petunia Dursley. And your name is…?"

"Luna Lovegood, of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Lovegood," Luna stated matter-of-factly. "Daughter of Master Spell Crafter Selene Lovegood, my mother, and editor of The Quibbler, Xenophilus Lovegood, my father. Now back to my original question: '_how long have you been able to see Wrackspurts?_' And how are you able to touch them like that? Wrackspurts are metaphysical creatures by nature and are not really connected to the physical world. It shouldn't be possible to do what you are doing."

"But… I _**am**_ touching it," the older woman spoke quietly, as she began to consider releasing the tiny struggling thing caught between her fingers.

"It's okay to let it go. It won't go far."

It was with some relief that Petunia did just that, freeing whatever had been trapped between her fingertips, then began wiping her fingers against the side of her light dress to clean them. Her eyes kept track of the so-called '_Wrackspurt_' following it as it headed back towards her nephew.

"Harry, it's coming back towards you."

Harry's eyes widened in alarm but couldn't see whatever it was.

"Don't worry about it," Luna responded. "I think Harry might have been spelled to attract them. I use radishes for earrings to keep the regular ones away, but I don't think that will work for Harry. Harry has one of the largest Wrackspurt infestations I've ever seen, and they haven't seemed to have harmed him much besides confounding him a bit." She paused, and tilted her head. "I think they may be using him as a breeding ground."

"What?!" While he was relieved to hear that these things were most likely benign, except for the confounding part, but he really didn't like the thought of being some creatures' breeding ground. "How do I get rid of them?" The sound of desperation in his voice was very painfully obvious.

Luna seemed to be slipping back into her more dazed expression, making Harry feel a bit more anxious. "Your aunt seems to be doing a good job of clearing them away. But that evidently won't keep them from coming back. Perhaps if she were to see what was attracting them to you?"

"An excellent idea, Miss Lovegood," McGonagall proclaimed, as she stepped forward to reassert her role in the group. "Mrs. Dursley, if you would perhaps comb through Harry's hair, you know, as if inspecting for lice. Maybe you would see something that would give us a clue as to what was going on." The Transfiguration professor then turned the used handkerchief into a low stool for Harry to sit on. Harry reluctantly acquiesced with a heavy embarrassed sigh and sat on it.

Petunia stepped behind him, and, with a tad of reluctance, began the hair searching protocol, swatting aside obstinate Wrackspurts as she went.

She let out a whimper as she began to flick the invisible critters away. "I don't know why, but they seem even more revolting now that I know that all of you can't see them."

"Don't forget that most wizards and witches can't even touch or feel them either," Luna added, helpfully.

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Harry asked, trying to distract himself from what was going on.

"That is something that I plan to look into personally." Professor McGonagall was slowly circling Harry and Petunia while casting a fleeting look over to Luna from time to time as if trying to solve a bothersome puzzle. "With abilities like this, I don't know why you weren't accepted into Hogwarts as a child."

At hearing this proclamation, Petunia froze. "You mean to say that I really should have attended here after all?" A myriad of feelings tried to express themselves on her face as she took this in. Joy. Anger. Disappointment. And shame.

"Most likely," admitted the Deputy Headmistress. "But I will have to look around to find an answer, maybe even examine your magical core, if you have one."

Petunia gave a reluctant nod before resuming her inspection of Harry's head. "Oh, this is odd."

"Did you find something?" inquired McGonagall, as she peered over Harry's aunt's shoulder.

"There's a… a metal rod embedded in the side of his head."

"What?" Harry's hands flew up to his scalp, his fingers running through his hair.

"Oh my!" Petunia jumped back. "His fingers went right through those Wrack-thingees!"

"What part of metaphysical did you not understand?" Luna asked politely. "And they are called Wrackspurts."

"Was he able to touch the rods?" McGonagall asked, steering them back to the subject at hand.

"I… I'm not sure. Those Wrackspurt things passing through his fingers distracted me. Harry, give me your hand so that I run it over this rod that I found, please."

He relented.

She moved two of his fingertips over an area two inches above his ear and just an inch forward. "Do you feel that?"

"I don't think so."

"I'm not surprised. Your fingers went right through them." She then placed her fingers on the rod; flinching when she actually made contact. "Can you feel me touching that?" she managed to say, barely able to control the surprise and shock in her own voice.

"No. What does that mean?"

Professor McGonagall moved right in front of Harry. "It means someone may have compromised your ability to compete in the tournament."

"So then I won't have to compete?" he said, hope plain in his voice.

His Head of House bit her lip for a moment. "I'm afraid you still will, for to not compete may result in the Goblet of Fire deciding that you forfeit, meaning you would lose you magic and possibly your life."

The teen groaned as he shook his head. "Damned if I do; damned if I don't. Just great."

"Could we extract the rods?" Luna queried.

McGonagall nodded, "I was thinking along those lines myself." She redirected her next statement to Petunia. "Can you describe what you can see of the rod?"

Moving some of his unruly hair out of the way, Petunia tapped an area around his head. "It's as thick as a pencil, red, and sticking about five centimeters out of the skull." She squinted as she leaned in closer. "There seems to a capital A on the tip of it."

"Oh dear," was what everyone in the room could hear Professor McGonagall say.

"You know what it is then?" Luna asked politely.

The Hogwart's teacher looked as if she had been bludgeoned. "Y-yes. My-my husband had been researching on these before he had been killed. They're called repressing rods. It was one of the more despicable things that Grindelwald had been using while experimenting on people."

"Experimenting?" He really didn't like the sound of that.

"Yes, my husband, Jonas, he'd been working on undoing the damage to Grindelwald's victims. Just before he'd been killed, Jonas had stumbled onto the rods, which most witches and wizards couldn't even see to know were even there."

"Ok," Harry said with a wavering voice. "Two questions, what is it doing to me, and can they be removed?"

Taking a moment to dab at her eyes, she cleared her throat. "The one that your aunt describes interferes with memory and focus."

"And to get it out?"

"That was the most frustrating part for Jonas, finding something that could pull it out, as most things pass right through it."

"So if we can get it extracted, he'll be fine?" Luna asked to clarify.

"As I understood his notes, then yes, it's just the matter of getting it out of him. It's phased so it won't leave a hole in him."

"Then Mrs. Dursley should be able to extract it," Luna stated matter-of-factly.

"Me!?" his aunt looked aghast at the very idea.

Harry nodded. "It's got to be you." He took her hand before she could bolt. "As a child, you dreamed of using magic; now you have the opportunity to do something magical most wizards and witches could never hope to."

"But what if this hurts you?"

He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "I'm about to be forced to fight against a dr- vicious beast." He tried not to, but he glanced to his Head of House who had caught his slip of tongue. "I have a very good chance of being killed or maimed for life in the next hour; you pulling this dampening rod out of my head would very likely give me a much better chance to live."

She wiped away a tear before agreeing. "Just please, tell me if it hurts at all so I can stop."

He took just a moment to reflect on how unusually nice his aunt was behaving, but knew it was not something he could dwell on right now. "Alright, but we have to hurry. I don't know how much time we have until I have to be in the Champions' Tent."

Taking a deep breath, Petunia grasped the end of the rod and pulled. Gasped at the relative ease in which it slid out, then was even more surprised when it turned out to be over thirty centimeters long.

"D-did that hurt?"

"It's out? I didn't feel it at all!"

"Oh, thank goodness!" she said with relief.

Meanwhile, McGonagall had transfigured some old pamphlets into a deep tray, and began sending several spells on it. "This should hold the rod. I will like to have one of my friends in the Department of Mysteries examine it."

Carefully, Petunia set the rod onto the tray. "Oh, it didn't pass through it. I thought it would. And those Wrackspurt things are fluttering around it."

"Containing them is easy once you know the right spells," said McGonagall. "Being able to remove the rods from a subject, that is not so easy."

"So Harry's all right then?" his aunt asked, fear evident in her voice.

"To be sure," the professor began, "I would like you to do a complete examination of Harry to see if there are any more rods on his body.

As the search continued, Petunia had discovered another red rod on the other side of his head and quickly removed it. On a further examination, she found seven black rods sticking out of his spine. These, McGonagall informed, dampened a person magical core. As each black rod were removed, a sudden influx of magical energy would flood back into Harry to fill the void that had been there. There were also seven blue rods that surrounded his heart that McGonagall said diminished his ability to recognize love.

"That's everything then."

"Very good then," McGonagall acknowledged even as she took the collecting tray from Luna who had been rolling the pins back and forth even though she couldn't see them. "I'm still concerned with the way that you described his scar. You say it's like looking at something evil."

Petunia shivered. "It's more like something evil was looking out from it at me." She paused and gave him a look of guilt. "Not that I am suggesting that you are evil, Harry."

Harry was quiet, making everyone look at him.

"Harry?"

"It's not a rod? You're sure?"

"I… it doesn't look like the others. In fact all this is so new to me that I have no idea what it could be," she went on to explain while raising her arms in a gesture of helplessness.

"Can you… can you try to remove it? Pull it out like you did with the rods?"

McGonagall raised her hand to stop them. "Harry, this may be too dangerous. We've already done a number of things to you that we can't determine how it has affected you. The thing in your scar we can have looked at after the First Task."

Harry shook his head. His thoughts were moving a lot clearer after the first two rods had been removed. "Professor, I got this scar when Voldemort tried to kill me only to have the killing curse return and kill him instead. Whenever I was near Quirrell in my First Year, it would hurt. So if there is any part of Voldemort in my scar, then I want him evicted."

Both women paled at the very idea that there could anything connected to Voldemort inside the young boy's scar.

"I'll do it, Harry," his aunt said in a quiet voice. Then engulfed him in a hug. "But, please, don't let this be the thing that kills you. I have so much to make up to you."

"What has happened to you?" he asked, as he stepped back to look at her. "I've never seen you like this before."

"You never said," came Luna's voice.

"What was that?" Harry spoke, taking a second to study the blonde Ravenclaw. A majority of the time she seemed to have a dazed or daydreaming expression on her face. Now he had to wonder if that had something to do with her claim of having the Sight. But then there was the fact that she carried her wand tucked behind her ear like someone in the Muggle world would a pencil and wore radishes for earrings. Her clothes showed some odd wear and tear that made him think of Dudley's old clothes that he had to wear. And then there was the fact that she wasn't wearing any shoes.

"It's my guess that whatever change happened to her that is allowing her to see and touch things that she couldn't before, did so just before she started noticing the Wrackspurts. And you never said when or what that was," she said quietly as if she were explaining it to sweet little children.

"Oh!" Petunia put her hand to her mouth. "I think I might know."

"And what is that, Mrs. Dursley?" the deputy headmistress asked calmly.

"It was right after we'd walked through the Hogwarts gates. I had stumbled over something, but when I looked I couldn't see anything. But I could see the magical barrier at that point. I just figured that you had to be on this side of the barrier to see it. But that awful, crude, giant of a man-"

"His name is Hagrid, and he's actually quite nice," Harry stated stiffly.

"… yes, him. He had quite a few of the Wrackspurts fluttering all over him. I just assumed it was considered a normal thing. Like the wizarding equivalent of an infestation of fleas or something. I mean, really, how was I to know?"

"Yes," nodded McGonagall with a growing frown. "I suppose I can see your point, Mrs. Dursley. And that just raises more questions in my head. But they are questions that will have to be addressed later. And we are running out of time. That being said, I would like the three of you to promise me you will not tell anyone what went on in here until I've had a chance to investigate further. And that includes not telling the Headmaster."

Harry's brows furrowed. "But-"

"If you are going to have anything done with your scar, it had best be soon. I have to get you to the First Task shortly."

His face turned to one of resolve. "Yeah. Let's do this."

It had turned out to be a good thing that McGonagall had placed the privacy wards. The screams that had come when Petunia began removing the entity from Harry would have sent everyone in the castle running either towards them or far, far away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Harry staggered into the Champions' Tent aided by Luna Lovegood and a feather-light charm. The rods that his aunt had somehow extracted from him, while making him feel more energized, had also made him feel rather gangly like a young colt learning to walk for the first time. But that thing she did with his scar! That hurt as bad, if not worse, then when the basilisk had bit his arm. But the weirdest part had been regaining consciousness only to discover his aunt draped over his chest, crying hysterically.

After McGonagall had checked Harry over, they all had to compose themselves (Harry would later say that he saw tears coming down his Head of House's face). They had to separate from Petunia after they retrieved Vernon and Dudley from the Hogwarts kitchen. Somewhere along the way, Vernon had acquired a '_Potter Stinks_' badge that Petunia berated him for before making him throw it away much to his chagrin. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were again conscripted by McGonagall; this time to help the Dursleys find their seats as well as to keep them from any obtrusive bad behavior from anyone that had a problem with them being present at a magical event. Dudley seemed extremely happy to have the two girls along, though his father was less than thrilled with the company of witches. Harry had caught a glimpse of Ron, but the Weasley had stuck his nose up in the air and mouthed the word '_cheat_' before stomping away.

As his eyes adjusted to the darker lit tent, Harry would swear that he could still feel the power pouring into his magical core, though it had finally started to taper off, much to his relief. Still, I did have an effect on him. He found he could sense the magic in the material in the tent, from the spell work for it to set up to even the water repellant runes sewn into the edges of the fabric. It wasn't very obvious to him, and he had no idea how it was all done, but the very fact that he could sense most of it was amazing to him.

On the far side of the tent, Viktor Krum stood solemnly staring off into the distance, but with his extra senses, Harry could see the Bulgarian Quidditch star's magic pulse around him as the Durmstrang champion meditated, gathering it in slowly like a sponge.

The Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory, who Harry and many others considered the true Hogwarts champion, had his magic flaring around him in nervous energy as he paced back and forth. Harry did manage to make out the barest amount of movement around Cedric's head; it took Harry just a moment to come to the conclusion that he had just seen the barest glimpse of a wrackspurt. To this, Harry determined that he had inherited at least a bit of his aunt's newfound abilities.

It was the gasp from the Beauxbatons champion drew his immediate attention to her, only to see that she was gapping at him. He took the moment to gape back. Fleur Delacour's magic hung about her in the form of a flaming Human-sized predatory bird that was at the moment very unsure of itself as it regarded him.

"I should be going, Harry Potter." Luna's statement drew him back from the staring contest he had inadvertently started with the young Veela. "It has been a very interesting first meeting."

"Uh, yeah, you could say that," he said, managing an unruly grin. "Thanks for the help. If you ever need help with something sometime, I'd love to try return the favor."

She nodded serenely. "That's nice. Perhaps I could interview you for The Quibbler after the Task."

Harry's eyebrows rose with trepidation. "What is that? A newspaper?" At her curt nod, he had to keep himself from hyperventilating. "You write for a newspaper?" It was then that he remembered that she had mentioned that her father was an editor. He let out a groan. One of the last things he needed was for his secrets to be spilled out for all the Wizarding world to read.

She seemed immediately aware of his concerns, though the dazed look on her face did not show it. "Not to worry, Harry Potter. I would not write about anything you wouldn't want written. You would have final approval of anything printed."

Harry then realized that he could somehow tell that she was speaking the truth. "Um, right then, if I survive this Task, you and I can work on the details for an interview, I guess."

Nodding, Luna turned and skipped out of the tent as if without a care in the world. Harry found that he was more than a bit jealous of her, both for her carefree attitude, as well as the fact she could at least leave.

Harry had been leaning against a tent pole, about to turn and face the others when he heard a familiar voice quietly whisper his name.

Harry stumbled forward and worked at opening the tent flaps. It was indeed Hermione, and she instantly grabbed onto him in desperation. Harry returned that furious hug with one of his own. He would not have been a bit surprised it they could have felt each other's hearts beating in their chests.

"I've been so worried about you, Harry! Where have you been?" she whispered, panic clearly able to be heard in her tone.

He breathed in the scent of her hair and let out a calming sigh. "The Champions have all been given a chance to visit with their family before they have to risk their lives in this murderous contest. Snape decided to bring the Dursleys."

"That's Professor Sn—Wait! He did what?!" She knew about his so-called relatives. She knew that Harry hadn't told her everything of what went on in the Dursley household, but Ron rarely thought to hide what he had seen when he and his brothers had gone to liberate Harry. The door to his room locked several times over with a cat-flap at the bottom of the door to provide him with food and water. And poor Hedwig, locked up in her birdcage. Both bird and boy were entirely too thin. And the callouses on Harry's hands were more like those of a man who worked in construction.

"It somehow turned out all right. Flitwick even stunned Snape and carted him away to sleep it off in the Hospital wing."

"That's Professor Flit—Oh my, he didn't! Oh, now I know you are messing with me, Harry." She went to move away, but Harry held onto her tightly.

"No, I'm serious. Well, not that Sirius, but you know what I mean."

"But, oh that means Professor Flitwick will be in serious trouble. And don't start with the Sirius jokes, Harry."

Harry chuckled as he patted her on the back. "He's gonna be fine. Professor McGonagall was right there and more than approved of his actions against the git."

"That's Professor Git, Harry."

They laughed and hugged even harder.

"Hermione, I don't know what I'd do without you."

She blushed at this, but didn't let go. "Thank you, Harry. A girl likes to be appreciated."

Holding her like that, he was becoming very reluctant on letting her go. "It's more than that. In fact, I was wondering something, Hermione."

"Yes?" She seemed to be just as reluctant to letting him go.

"I was wondering if you would like to go with me to Hogsm-"

FLASH!

While using his body to shield Hermione, Harry twisted and fired off a quick reducto. The spell flew true, destroying the device that had caused the flash.

Rita Skeeter, the Daily Prophet news reporter, stood next to her cameraman who was now holding a camera that had been cleanly sliced into two as if it had been made of butter. Various loose pieces of the camera fell onto the floor of the tent, as did the destroyed bits of film.

"How-how dare you!" Skeeter began to harp.

"What did you think you were doing?" retorted Harry. "Did you even think of how high tensions are in here right now? How could you not think that one of us would react to you two just surprising us like that! You could have been accidently killed! And it would have been your own fault!" Meanwhile the cameraman looked like he was about to wet himself, or pass out, or both, as he let the two halves of the camera fall from his hands and onto the tent floor. "You two aren't supposed to be in here, either, are you?" Harry quickly surmised.

Rita was blushing furiously, angry at this little upstart. But she managed to remind herself that she needed to try get an interview from him, and hopefully the young witch that had been in his arms. A muggle-born witch, too, if Rita judged correctly. Oh, how she wished that photo hadn't been destroyed, as it would have been perfect for the front cover of the next Daily Prophet edition. And yet that spell, the precision and speed in which Harry sent that reducto made Rita reconsider whether she wanted to be in the same tent as him, and was also making her reconsider exactly what type of article she wanted to write about him. All in all, she hadn't felt this flummoxed since trying to get the goods on Mad-Eye Moody.

To her surprise, her rescue came in the form of Dumbledore and the other two headmasters, and Ludo Bagman. "Ms. Skeeter? You and your cameraman are not allowed in the Champions' Tent."

"Sorry. Took a wrong corner somewhere. We were just leaving." Rita rushed toward the tent opening, dragging her cameraman to whatever relative safety that lay outside.

"She went off in a hurry," chuckled Bagman, as he put a purple, silk sack he'd been carrying under his arm.

Karkaroff bared his yellow teeth. "A woman like that never leaves until she has what she wants." He paused before looking over the contestants, his eyes at last settling on Harry. "Or feels her life is at risk."

Harry met his eyes, not faltering until he felt a slight tickling in his brain.

Before Harry could think to call '_foul_', Dumbledore stepped neatly between them. "Igor, do we need to have another private chat?"

The Durmstrang headmaster was clearly cowed, as he slowly backed away, then abruptly marched across the tent to where Krum stood still as a statue, unconcerned about any difficulties his headmaster was experiencing.

Madame Maxime had made it over to the side of her school's champion, and seemed slightly amused at the bravado of her colleagues. Seeing how lightly she moved on her feet, Harry began to suspect that the half-Giant Headmistress used a feather-light charm on herself.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked, taking ahold of his sleeve.

Dumbledore responded before Harry could say a word. "Miss Granger, what are you doing here? I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Hermione's words caught in her throat even as she let go of Harry's sleeve. She turned away before Harry could see the tears that would soon be coming.

"Wait!" Harry grabbed a hold of her hand, and gently tugged her back to him before she could exit the tent. "Hermione, I want-"

"Mr. Potter," interrupted in the clear, strong voice of Albus Dumbledore. "We are on a schedule. It's important that we-"

"Well, this is important to me, old man!" Harry barked, much to the surprise of everyone. "And since I'm the one being forced to risk my life to compete, and you haven't done anything to get me out of it, you will give me the few minutes I need before putting my life on the line for this stupid, insane contest!"

Karkaroff look ready to say something completely derogatory, but Dumbledore merely raised a staying hand.

"Very well, Harry. But, please, do not be long."

Harry quickly turned to his closest friend. "Sorry about that," he said to her in a much quieter and much calmer tone than he felt at that moment.

Hermione looked at him as if a bombshell had gone off. "Harry, you can't talk to the he-"

"Shh." He held a finger to her lips. "I don't have a lot of time. As for what I want to ask you…Sorry, I didn't want to ask you here, but… Look, I don't know much about feelings and all that having grown up in the Dursley home."

Another interruption came from Dumbledore. "Harry, perhaps now is not the time to discuss certain facts about-"

Harry whirled around. "Stuff it, old man! This is my moment right now so leave off!"

He took a moment to glare his headmaster down, and too his surprise, Dumbledore backed away, and after a moment nodded for Harry to go on.

With a shaky breath, Harry turned back to Hermione. He ignored the shock in her eyes; instead, he tried to focus on what he was trying to ask her. Unable to help himself, he nervously scratched at the back of his unruly hair. "Sorry about that again. But anyway… I… this is so not how I wanted to have this talk with you. But I have a monstrous encounter coming up so…" He cleared his throat. "We've spent quite a bit of time together recently. On a bit of a side-note, thank you for helping me to save my skin in the damn, bloody tournament."

"Language, Harry," she said just above a whisper. "And you don't have to thank me; that's the sort of things friends do for one another."

The teenage boy winced a little at that. "Um, yeah, that not what I meant to say. I mean, I do thank you, it's just… what I'm trying to say is that with everything going on, I've had my eyes opened, I guess you could say." Gently, he reached out to take ahold of her two small hands. "I know I have to go out there and fight… some horrible creature," he managed to amend before anyone could pick up that he already knew about the dragons. "-that the lunatics in charge of these events have picked out." He gave her a slight smile that she shared a bit at his jab at the Tournament officials. "I know it could go really badly for me. But if I manage to survive this bloody Task-" He quickly raised a finger to her lips to keep her from reprimanding him for foul language and doubting his ability to survive. "-and I'm not too badly hurt, I was hoping you would accompany me to Hogsmeade on the next open weekend…on a date."

It was almost as if she had gasped and froze at the same time. If it was not such an important matter to him, he was sure that he would have laughed.

"This is why we are waiting to start the tournament?" Karkaroff's outrage broke through the magical moment the two teens were experiencing. "So the great Harry Potter can ask a girl out? Dumbledore, you pander to this boy way too much."

When Harry turned to the Durmstrang headmaster, it was as if he eyes burned with a green fire. "Don't presume to know me, sir. And don't presume to know why I do the things I do. I'm not the wild and carefree guy that books and newspapers have described the Boy-Who-Lived to be. I never will be thanks to the way I was brought up. I have never asked anyone to go on a date before." Just to his left, Harry noticed, with just a bit of satisfaction that Dumbledore had winced at that hint of what it was like for him growing up with the Dursleys. Seeing that Dumbledore was showing a sign of guilt, Harry thought he'd add to it a bit more. "With this bloody suicidal Task ahead of me, I may never be able to ask anyone out ever again! Let alone see if it could grow to be something more!"

Karkaroff, for once, was wise enough not open his mouth and upset matters worse. Instead, he chose to fold his arms and give a gruff look of disdain.

"As for Hermione, she is wonderful, sweet, kind, and even though I've known her for going on four years now, I have realized that there is still so much about her that I don't know, and I hope, in time, to have the opportunity to know."

He heard her breath catch in throat. Lowering his head, partially in embarrassment that he had lost his temper and said more than he wanted to, and a bit afraid of what she would make of all this now that he had exposed some of his true feelings that he had for her.

"Um, hey." He raised a tentative hand out to her. She took his hand, before pulling him into her warm embrace that he couldn't have escaped if had wanted to. Which he didn't.

Slowly they separated, and it was now Hermione's turn to have a problem meeting the other person's eyes. "Harry, I don't quite understand."

"What don't you understand?" he asked, a lump forming in his throat.

She flushed with embarrassment, yet pushed on to mention the very thing she didn't want to bring up. "It's just… I though… You seemed to have eyes for Cho Chang."

In the background, Cedric coughed. Harry gave a slight shake of his head, but didn't bother looking back at the Hufflepuff whose eyes were most likely boring into his back. "Hermione, I'm a male. I have noticed her and a few other female students. With all the hormones bouncing around in my body it would be hard to do otherwise. But as for Cho, I really don't even know her. As far as I know I've only said something like '_good match_' after a quidditch game."

"But you," he continued. "What is not to love about you? You are thoughtful, and extremely cute when you bite your lip while you are working out a frustrating problem. You are determined to watch out for me even when you know it will irritate me. You even gave me the first hug I can remember. And, I miss you whenever you are not nearby."

Sensing a pause, Dumbledore decided to intervene. This was going entirely too far. There was no chance of a relationship between the two of them. Harry's future would not have a happy ending, as much as he wished it were otherwise. No, it was best to end this piece of fiction now. At least then Hermione could have a chance of a happy life. Maybe with Ron. Yes, he could arrange that. Then at least the two friends of Harry would have each other after Harry was gone after taking down Voldemort. Yes, he could do that much for Harry. "Harry,-"

"Do you mind, old man!" Harry barked over his shoulder at the surprised headmaster. "I'm trying to ask out the girl of my dreams here in case you haven't noticed!"

Hermione let out a gasp. "Do you mean that, Harry?"

As the two teens ignored their headmaster, the flush of anger in Harry's face swiftly became the flush of embarrassment. "Hermione, I don't know the right things to say in matters like this. I'm not Fred or George. Hell, I'm not even Percy. All I can do is be entirely open to you. And in saying that I have to tell you that I am highly interested in you, and what I'm hoping for is that if we go out a few times on dates, that we can find out if we want to become boyfriend/girlfriend." He gave her a warm smile.

"Th-then I say yes," she managed. "To a date, or dates that is." She quickly brought her hands up to her lips to keep from squealing from excitement. Without prompting, they engaged in a hug.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Hermione looked up at the others. The Veela Fleur was happily whispering to her headmistress Maxime with the half-giantess bent down to hear her. Hermione was rather surprised when Krum turned away from her, but assumed it was from a cultural thing.

"Can we get on with things now?" growled Karkaroff, whom Harry was beginning to consider as having the same charming personality as Snape.

With a sigh of reluctance, Harry nodded. They didn't say another word, as there was nothing to say. Harry did manage to hold the tent flap open for her so that she could exit. It also gave him the opportunity to reach out and stroke her soft hair.

Harry was lost in his own thoughts after that until Ludo Bagman held out the silk bag in front of him. Realizing he was to reach inside, he soon withdrew an animated miniature dragon.

"You'll be the last contestant, Potter," Bagman said cheerily, as he tucked the bag away.

"Wait, is this… is this a Norwegian Ridgeback?" He hadn't gotten the best look at the dragons that night when Hagrid was showing him and Maxime. And he had regretted that when he went to start researching them as each species had certain strengths and weaknesses.

"Wish that it was," Bagman admitted. "Those are a bit more reasonable. No, what you hold there in your hand is more or less the cousin of the Norwegian Ridgeback. It is the Hungarian Horntail; one of the most vicious dragons know to wizards and witches."

Harry nodded mutely as he studied the dragon homunculus he was holding. Looking over, he saw that Viktor Krum held in his hand a miniature dragon called the Chinese Fireball. Fleur Delacour had a Common Welsh Green dragon that seemed to want to fly away while Cedric Diggory's dragon was breathing fire at him.

"Bagman," came the venom-filled voice of Karkaroff. "I believe you are instructed to not give advice to the contestants. That each of the Champions are to face off against the dragons on their own merit."

Ludo rolled his eyes. "Like you haven't already helped you champion," he muttered under his breath, and Harry's amusement.

"What did you say?" Karkaroff yelled, pulling out his wand. "You dare to accuse me? You, a bumbling buffoon who is up to his neck in debt to the goblins, dare to accuse me? You've probably already sold the information to what the Task is to the Potter and Diggory boys. Or perhaps to that newspaper woman? Yes, I've no doubt that you must have let that Skeeter woman in here right before the Task as well."

Bagman backed away, his hands held up away from his wand so as to not give the Durmstrang headmaster a reason to blast away at him with the devil only knows what kind of dark curse. "Now, Igor, this-this is getting out of hand. Tell him, Potter, Diggory."

Harry watched Dumbledore do nothing, just watching things playing out. And when Bagman called for Harry and Cedric to vouch for him, Dumbledore just turned to him and gave him a slight nod. At that point he swayed for a second over the conundrum of what to do. He didn't want to jump every time Dumbledore told him to. There was just too many discrepancies on how the headmaster had been managing his life. The rods that his aunt had found embedded in his body most likely had come from him. But what possible reason could Dumbledore have to do that to anyone, let alone him? Why would he not tell him about it, especially as to how it was affecting him?

But either way, Bagman had not told either Harry or Cedric so just letting him be abused by the cruel Durmstrang headmaster was not something Harry could allow.

"I found out about the dragons on the same night that you and Maxime did. I saw you both in the dark examining the creatures so that you could tell your champions about them. And since Cedric was the only one honorable enough to not go looking for the creatures we were to fight, I went and told him, so as to make the contest equal for all of us."

Karkaroff looked as if he were about to turn his wand on Harry. But before his anger took him any further, Viktor Krum stepped in front of his headmaster, and faced Harry.

"Vhat Potter sayz is truth. My headmaster told me of dragons before I could tell him I did not vant to know. I vanted to face the Task on my terms. But, vonce I knew it was dragons, I study only them." He then nodded to Harry. "You, Potter, have done better than I. You made sure others knew of dragons. You have better honor than I."

"More zan me, too," Fleur stated, coming forward to stand near Krum. "I waz told of zee dragonz by my 'eadmistress, as she feared for my zafety. But in my fear for myself I did not think too warn you three. For zat I am truly zorry."

Fortunately it was Cedric who stepped forward next in full Hufflepuff mode. "Well, the important thing now is that we all know we are on equal ground, right? And more than that, this whole Tri-Wizard event was supposed to bolster International goodwill for our people. So let's put aside this trouble and be friends, yeah? In fact, why don't the four of us get together after the event for an hour or two just to get to know one another?"

"Tonight might not vork," said Viktor. "Iz good idea, but there vill be injuries. Treatment may make difficult to do tonight. Plus, if able, my schoolmates vill vant to celebrate vith me. I cannot tell them no."

Fleur nodded. "Perhaps tomorrow would be better. Barring bad injuries, of course."

Cedric gave her his winning smile. "I think you have a good idea. And if we can show the schools that we can get along, it would help on the International level." The Hufflepuff then turned to the Gryffindor. "What do you say, Harry?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm in. Just let me know when and where." He had been surprised at how well it had all turned around with the other Champions all accepting of each other instead of being divided like they were when he first stepped into the tent. Even so, Karkaroff's face looked so disgusted with everything that it reminded Harry of when Ron's broken wand had backfire so that he got hit with his own slug-vomiting charm.

Harry did give a glance back at Dumbledore to see what he was making out of all this. The odd thing was that the old wizard seemed to have lost the twinkle in his eye and was deep in thought. He wasn't sure if the headmaster was angry, concerned or disappointed.

Bagman cleared his throat, though it was obvious that he had placed himself closer to the exit and Dumbledore, as well as away from Karkaroff. "While this is wrapping up very nicely in here. (_I do suggest that no one mention the contestants knowing about the dragons ahead of time to anyone else_). It is a bit past time that I and the other judges were to go out and greet the audience. In about ten minutes, Mr. Diggory, you will hear a trumpet. That will be your cue to exit through that side of the tent."

As Bagman went on about the order of the Champions, Harry had to admit that Bagman was doing a rather good job of giving them instructions, though the rules seemed a bit threadbare to him.

Harry jumped at bit in alarm when he realized that his sleeve was on fire. His miniature of the Hungarian Horntail he was to steal an egg from had set him on fire.

_~Stop that!~ _he automatically yelled at the mini-Horntail. To his amazement, the faux-dragon did just that.

"You talk to reptiles?" Krum said, surprising Harry who suddenly realized what he had just done.

"Yeah, but Parseltongue is just an ability; it doesn't necessarily make me evil." He could already see that Bagman looked pale enough to pass for one of the Hogwarts ghosts.

"Of course it doez not!" exclaimed Fleur. "My family's doctor is a Parzeltongue. She iz a very kind and funny woman. She 'az gone to India several timez to study. India has the 'ighezt known number of Parseltongue speakerz az it is more 'ereditarily established there. I 'ave 'eard of the British ztigma toward Parseltongue speakers. 'ow zey are thought to be evil. It iz stupid."

That was something that Harry could very much agree on. "British wizards aren't known for being very logical. I have a theory that part of the problem is all the inbreeding among all the pure-bloods. Makes them rather simple minded and more willing to believe whatever they are told."

"Also is weak com-pul-sions on your Daily Prophet paper," Krum stated with his hands folded over his chest, obviously deeply in disgust with anyone who would manipulate it's readers in that manner.

When Harry was able to pick up his dropped jaw, he rounded on his headmaster. "Did you know about this? Compulsions in the papers?"

For his part, Dumbledore also looked shocked. "I had no idea. But I suppose, that with all the magical photographs in the paper, and other minor spells, that there could be a charm or hex of some type that could be hidden under all the underlining magic in the newspaper." Then he asked Krum, "Tomorrow, could I have a word with you. I would like to know exactly how this is being done."

Krum nodded. "I vill bring Hans and Vlad. They are vnes who find spell hidden in your Prophet. They like to pick magic items apart. See how they work."

Dumbledore nodded. "Good, good." Then looking around him, he nodded toward the opening of the tent. "We should be heading out there. Crouch is probably about to send out a search party for us. Ladies first," he said, as he bowed to Maxime as he used his magic to open the tent wide enough that she did not have to stoop down to get through.

Once Bagman and the headmasters were all gone, the four Champions separated to the four corners of the tent, each intent on studying their dragon.

Harry took a seat on the ground and set his dragon down. The Horntail regarded him for a moment, then set about digging around the ground, moving rocks around and tearing up grass to make a mound.

_~Are you making a nest?~_

The tiny dragon looked up at him before giving a bit of a nod.

Scratching his chin, Harry decided to try an experiment. Using his wand, he shaped a small rock until it resembled the dragon's egg that Harry had seen in Hagrid's hut back in his first year.

He then gently placed the miniature egg near the dragon's impromptu nest. The diminutive dragon rushed to claim the egg, picking it up in her mouth to carry to her nest. What it did next really surprised Harry. Setting the egg down, the mini-dragon stood over it and growled at Harry. Then began to breathe fire at him, forcing Harry to roll to the side, or risk being dragon-burned before his turn even began. "Whoa! Watch it!"

"What are you doing, Harry?" Cedric had seen the commotion and had come over to distract himself from his upcoming challenge.

"Just experimenting to see how much like a dragon these toy dragons really are. Turns out, they have a lot of the same instincts. At least I think they do."

By that time Fleur and Viktor had come over. The little Horntail was hissing up a fit as she stood protectively over her egg, while every now and then sending up a flare of flame, one of which almost got to Harry.

Cedric walked around the nest, and the little dragon continued to change her position over her egg so that she was able to keep the Hufflepuff in view the entire time. "I think that these replicas we were given will try to react the same way that the real dragon would, depending upon the situation." That said, Cedric pointed his wand at a nearby small rock, turning it into a miniature wolf. Then, with another flick of his wand, Cedric sent the wolf toward the dragon and her nest. It wasn't long before the former rock was charred wolf flesh. "Guys, I think we have a way of testing what we are planning to do for our challenge on the small dragon models we were given."

Fleur let out a strangled '_eep_' before racing back to her corner to make a nest for her Welsh Green dragon. Krum also saw the advantage of this, and gave a brisk standing salute, or something like it, before retiring to his corner.

Cedric nudged Harry in the shoulder with his knuckles. "Good job, Potter."

"Hey, you are the one who suggested that he could use the models for practice," Harry pointed out.

"Speaking of which, I have a couple of scenarios I want to try out. And since I am going first, I'd better get on it then."

"Good luck, Cedric."

"You, too, Harry."

**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_Hey there, readers._

_This was mostly a filler chapter, but things needed filling._

_Sorry if the accents for Fleur and Viktor are not the best, but it was the best I could do._

_There will be more Dursley related scenes in upcoming chapters, not to worry._

_Read and review please._


	3. Chapter 3

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts 3**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

Harry stepped out into a collage of cheers and jeers from those seated in the stadium. Those who booed or made other offensive noises were mostly from the Slythern and Durmstrang sections, as well as quite a few of the Hufflepuffs joining in. The Gryffindors and the rest of the school were doing their best at drowned out the rude behavior of the others. He did note that the Beauxbatons students were taking a neutral stance, and only politely clapping.

The autumn air seemed warm to him, but then he remembered that the three contestants before him had all faced fire-breathing dragons. That was sure to raise the temperature of the air.

As if on cue, a great blast of fire cut through the air with a deafening roar from the far side of the arena.

"Damn, she looks even bigger now that she's out of her cage," Harry murmured even as his pulse raced.

The Hungarian Horntail stood over her clutch of eggs eyeing those in the stands for possible threats before turning her venomous gaze to Harry.

Gulping, Harry raised his wand towards Hogwarts and shouted "_Accio Firebolt_!"

Harry then had to duck down behind one of the many boulders that were strewn about the arena least he be engulfed in dragon fire.

~_Char you till your meat falls from your bones! Burn you to ashes_!~

Comprehension began to come to him in his shock. He could understand the dragon. And if he could understand the dragon, then maybe she could understand him. He didn't like the idea of using Parseltongue in front of a large crowd, but it beat being incinerated.

He risked a quick peek around the boulder, and let go of the breath he'd been holding once he saw the dragon once again scrutinizing those in the stands.

But what was he to say? That was the problem. He knew he didn't have long because the Task was being timed, though he was more than willing to let the time go long if it meant a greater chance of his survival. But first he'd have to convince the dragon of that.

Carefully he climbed on top of one of the larger boulders, and stood so that he had to only take one step back to be protected by the stone.

_~Oh great dragon, I wish to have words with you!~_

Shouting in Parseltongue was not a very easy feat to accomplish as it was not easily accomplished with a human throat, but even so, the dragon heard him.

_~You speak!~_ she exclaimed with some surprise.

_~I do.~_

_~You shall not smash my eggs!~_ she roared.

Harry edged back to the edge of the boulder. _~No one wants to hurt your eggs!~_ he said desperately, looking back for his Firebolt.

_~Liar! I smell the smashed eggs of other dragons put here!~ _

Harry jumped down just barely escaping the fire that passed over his head. As he waited for the boulder to cool off, he spotted where the judges stood on their private platform overlooking everything. Dumbledore was running his fingers through his beard as he studied Harry's predicament. Bagman was giddy and biting down on the brim of his hat with every roar the dragon gave. Madame Maxime sat still as a large statue, impassively. Crouch, the head of the Dept. of International Magical Cooperation and one of the instigators of the reinstatement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, seemed to not care of the risk he had placed on the Champions, as if putting a teen against a dragon were not a major concern. Karkaroff, however, seemed to be enjoying himself all too well.

Pointing at his own throat, Harry cast a Sonorus spell. "You let dragon eggs be broken? Are the lot of you totally insane? The dragon smells broken dragon eggs and now she thinks I'm going to do the same to hers!"

Harry had to duck down further as the dragon responded to his shouting by spraying the boulder he was hiding behind with more fire.

Through bits of the fire, Harry could just make out the judges arguing with each other, but soon realized that he was on his own. There was no way Karkaroff was letting him get any help if he could block it.

Sensing a break in the fire, Harry moved to the side just in time to catch his Firebolt flying to him. Jumping on it, he raced with it upwards away from the dragon and the deathly fire. Once he was out of range, Harry began to hover on his broomstick and take a moment to study the arena for any advantages he could use.

For the dragon part, she was alternating fiery breaths in his direction as well as howl morbidly descriptive terms of what she would do to him if she laid her claws on him.

It was by chance that he spotted his aunt, uncle and cousin sitting in the stands. His uncle was the easiest to make out as he was by far the largest man this side of Hagrid watching the Task. Vernon Dursley seemed tickled with glee at watching his nephew being put through such a trial, even if it was at the hands of the Freaks in the Wizarding world. Harry figured Vernon's probably decided that if he was going to be forced to watch this freaky spectacle, he could at least enjoy seeing his freak of a nephew be put through the Wizarding world's version of a gauntlet.

His Aunt Petunia was distinctly crying and holding her Dudley tight in her arms, alternating putting her hands over his eyes and ears.

Dudley for his part didn't know what to think of things, especially with his mother alternating pulling things out of his hair and crying over Harry. On the other side of Dudley sat Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. But what about knocked Harry off his broomstick was when he noticed that Lavender was looking at Dudley sadly and holding his hand!

And the dragon! It seemed more outraged than before Harry had said anything to it. The only thing keeping Harry safe for the moment was the chain around it's neck confining it's range of attack.

He took a moment to glance around for Hermione, but couldn't see her, though he did see Luna Lovegood standing next to Hagrid. Knowing he couldn't waste any more time, Harry began looking at the placements of the rocks, plotting possible routes and cover from fire, as well as what spells would be best used in a certain place.

"This is such a not good plan," he murmured with a resigned sigh.

He flew wide around the dragon, and near the crowd, coming to a stop at where he was supposed to go with his egg. Instead, he stood right next to the line that he was supposed to cross, but didn't. As he watched the dragon roar at him, he could hear the crowd behind him jeering him being a coward and a quitter.

A movement in his pocket, broke the moment for him as he looked down to see the model Horntail dragon that he had pulled out of the bag that Bagman had had them make selections from climb out of his pocket and begin looking around.

"Yeah, let's let you down. At least one of us won't be burnt to a crisp."

As he set the dragon homunculus down at the finish line, he hit it was a mild spell. "Now when I get back, I expect you to be right here, yeah?"

Taking off on his broom again, Harry tried going high and out of range in order to talk to the dragon again.

He had to fly to one side to evade a column of smoke that would have at the least blistered any exposed skin. _~Listen to me for a moment. I don't want to be here any more than you do~ _

_~You shall not touch even one of my eggs!~ _she screeched.

~_I don't want your eggs! I only need the fake egg they put in your nest!~_

_~You shall have nothing from my nest, egg smasher! Even if there is a fake egg, you shall not have it!~_

Harry groaned as his head dropped. "So much for the easy way."

Resigned to what he was going to have to do, Harry power dived, and cut to the left before spiraling up and then back again. He knew he was winding the dragon up, but at the same time he had to gage her reaction time if he was going to come out of this in one piece. Or at least in as big a remaining piece as he could; he had no desire to end up looking like Mad-Eye Moody after all.

Coming around the side, Harry swung back toward the dragon who was just opening her mouth to expel another bout of fire.

"-_Langlock!-_" His spell flew true, striking right in the dragon's mouth. Almost instantly, the dragon's tongue was glued to the top of it's mouth, making it impossible to breath fire. He wished he'd been able to use a strong Stupefy spell, but then the dragon would have for sure fallen on her eggs, crushing them beneath her.

Harry was about to follow through with an _Obscuro_ spell to blindfold the dragon when flares of fire jetted toward him from the dragon's nostrils. He pulled out of the way with a barrelroll on his broomstick, but by forcing more magic than usual through his wand, Harry used the _Aguamenti_ charm to send a river of water at the dragon. While that did take care of the flames, and knock the dragon's head back, Harry had not been ready for the super-heated steam that the dragon fire and water had made. It had caught him on his right side, scalding a bit of his face, but also his right arm.

He gasped in pain and gnashed his teeth as he then realized his mistake in not thinking of the resulting steam. Flying high, Harry glanced down at his right, blistered hand only to note something missing. His wand!

For those Quidditch fans, it looked like Harry had suddenly turned around to do a Wronski Feint. The entire audience, fan or foe, took in a collective gasp as they realized just how close to the dragon Harry's broom dive was going to be taking him. More than a few women screamed in terror. And maybe even one or two of the men (_but later Lugo Bagman would deny it_).

Harry, meanwhile, scanned the air like mad for any sign of his wand during his power dive. He hoped it was still in mid-air so he could catch it and fly away before the dragon was able to react.

The dragon, however, was not in a very forgiving mood. Her recovery from the onslaught of water was practically instantaneous, and instinctively she shook the water off herself. Then did a quick look at her clutch of eggs. As she check over her eggs, she did see an odd addition to her nest. She snorted in anger at the game these magical humans were playing at, especially when they included her eggs in the works!

She worked her jaw back and forth. The spell the Parseltongue human had hit the inside of her mouth with was starting to loosen thanks to the high resilient nature dragons had to magical attacks.

Her anger filled her as she decided that she would make an example of this human in front of the others of it's kind. Only at that juncture may they learn not to endanger the eggs of dragons.

It was then she spotted him. The human riding his flying stick was heading almost straight down at her. Her eyes narrowed and she caught sight of the smaller flying stick that was also falling.

While dragons only noted magical humans to be an annoyance to be put up with, they were observant of them enough to know that practically all of the humans magical abilities tie into the little sticks that they liked to wave about. And now she saw that the human that was a threat to her clutch of eggs was without his little stick. But only for a moment.

Choosing to end this threat now, she leapt upward with all her might. The chain around her neck tugged her to a stop for just a moment before crumpling away, and then she was in the air, heading upwards straight at a diving Harry Potter.

**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_Ha! Cliffhanger! Anyway, sorry for the short chapter, but I think the next one will be running a bit long._

_Read and review please._


	4. Chapter 4

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts 4**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

Diving down as fast as his Firebolt could take him, Harry finally spotted his wand falling toward the ground. Almost at the same time Harry realized that the Hungarian Horntail had broken free of it's leash and was flying straight up to meet him with her jaws wide.

"Merlin's beard!" Harry pulled his broom to the side, trying to put some distance between him and the dragon. He had wanted to go for his wand, but he wasn't nearly close enough. Even the daredevil Gryffindor seeker knew better than to do something that reckless. Especially when the dragon was roaring how she was going to roast him alive. Mothering dragons! He didn't know who was crazier, the dragon or whoever thought that this task was a good idea?

He turned his broomstick up so that he could go high over the stadium seating without getting very close to it. The last thing he wanted was for the crazed dragon to start taking out her anger issues on the people who had been watching the First Task, as it would have been a slaughter. As it was he could see a several people starting to run for the exits.

There was a flash that caught both him and the dragon by surprise. Harry, having had more experience with the sudden flash of a camera, recovered first from the sudden bright light of Colin Creevey's camera.

Looking back at the dragon, Harry saw that what he had feared was about to come to pass. The dragon had turned her attention down to the wizards and witches below her and was beginning to inhale. Harry could almost see the whites of Colin's eyes as realized what taking that picture just then would be costing him.

Harry performed an almost perfect 180 degree turn in mid-air, and flew back toward the dragon, kicking one of her ears in passing to get her attention, then narrowly twisting out of the way of her snapping teeth.

"This '_Saving People_' thing Hermione says I have is going to be the death of me!" he shouted as he left the stadium behind him. In spite of that rather hectic moment in the life of Harry Potter, he was rather surprised when he was able to coax more speed out of his broomstick, though the dragon was still keeping up behind him.

Harry ducked down through one of the bridge walkways connected to the castle. Glancing back, he could see that the dragon had been slowed down, but only just, as it smashed itself through it.

"As if people didn't blame me for enough stuff," he muttered.

Hearing the roar of flames behind him, Harry flew over the Sundial Garden and dove behind the Owlery from which almost a hundred terrified owls took flight. The owls proved to be a better distraction then the walkway, causing the dragon to stop it's flight briefly as the owls scattered. Annoyed at the smaller winged creatures, the dragon sent out a flare of dragon fire, incinerating a few of the slower owls.

Meanwhile, Harry had moved up and over the castle as he looked for someplace to go. "I should head back and get my wand," he muttered. "Dumbledore and the dragon handlers should be able to round up the dragon," he said, trying to convince himself. He flew up behind the turret on Ravenclaw tower, and began to hover under the eaves. "Who am I kidding, I can't head back there now. Everyone was starting to stampede. If the dragon follows me back, it would just lead to more people getting injured as they ran away."

Glancing around, he saw no signs of the dragon. Deciding he had to have a plan, he looked out toward the Forbidden Forest and wondered if he should try to make a run for it on his broom.

Before he could decide, the part of the roof above him shattered as the Horntail smashed her way through it with her head.

"Bloody h-"

The dragon slipping of the tiles of the roof was the only thing that saved him at that point. Even so, he still collided with the head of the dragon, and heard the snap of his broom. Having no other options open to him, Harry grabbed onto whatever he could, leading him in the precarious position of riding on the back of the dragon's head while several pieces of the stone wall of the tower and broken tiles fell around him.

Desperately, Harry tried to think of any way to get out of this. He had once apparated as a child to get away from Dudley and his gang, and ended up on the school roof. But Hogwarts had apparition wards up so that idea was out. His wand was gone, lost somewhere over the arena. Talking to the dragon hadn't worked as she was madder than Snape after Fred and George pulling a brilliant prank on him. That only left wandless magic.

He was so screwed.

But, no, he had to try. He had a date with Hermione to go on. And he wasn't going to let some crazed dragon ruin that for him.

He tried to remember what McGonagall had said on the subject of wandless magic. Intent. Intent was always key. Every student at Hogwarts had performed wandless magic at one point or another before coming to Hogwarts. They had done so by intent, and sometimes quite a lot of adrenaline. Which he had at the moment in spades.

_The dragon is just too big, and I'm too small_, he thought.

The dragon was pulling out of it's fall, and Harry was pressed hard against her head. So she would land and that would be the end of Harry and any plans he had for the future.

_I can't spell the dragon; her scales would block my magic. So I'd have to magic myself. But I don't know any growing spells I can use. _He flinched as the dragon let out another angry roar. _I'll have to improvise, and push hard on intent._

Oddly enough, Harry did remember the words to one growing spell. Dudley had been watching an American cartoon show about the Super Friends, a team of super-heroes. He mostly remembered it because of the fit Dudley had thrown when his mother had tried to turn it off. Harry had only seen a small piece of the show as he was emptying the trash. A hero named Apache Chief had shouted out some words and then grew to an enormous size. Later that night, locked in his cupboard under the stairs, Harry would whisper those same words and imagine himself bigger than Vernon, Petunia and Dudley, and that no one would be able to be mean to him ever again.

Pushing on his magic, Harry shouted the words he remembered from that cartoon. "Eh-neeek-chock!"

The dragon was about to touchdown onto the grass next to the castle, and deal with the puny wizard that was a threat to her eggs, when suddenly there was something very large on her back. She crashed down face first with the thing on the back falling.

She shook of the dirt and grass from her head so that she could safely open her eyes. There, picking himself off the ground, was the threat to her hatchlings. The wizard had somehow become her size.

_~Now stop this!~_ Harry shouted in Parseltongue. _~There is no need for-~_

The fourth Champion had to dive to the side to avoid being immolated. He just barely turned to the side to miss the Horntail's snapping head, and automatically grabbed it to try hold it tight. But while he could hold the head with his hands clamping the dragon's mouth closed, there was very little he could do about the rest of the dragon. The dragon had managed to sink one of her claws into the calf of Harry's leg, causing him to scream in agony.

In retaliation, Harry turned and slammed the dragon's head into the side of the castle's outer walls, knocking several stones loose. He managed the feat on more time before the dragon wrapped her tail around the teenager's legs, causing him to fall. Both dragon and human began to roll away from the castle and toward the Forbidden Forest, hitting, scratching, and whatever else they could do to hurt the other one. Harry didn't even realize just how far they had gone until him elbow pushed in the wall of Hagrid's hut. The dragon had let out a snort of flame from her nostrils that had cooked and burned several of the pumpkins in Hagrid's garden.

_Being big isn't enough_, Harry grimaced as he landed on his back with the dragon mostly on top of him. _I have to change things more to my favor. I just don't know what._

Pushing on his magic as hard as he could, Harry could feel the magic working in and around him. But what happened was not at all what he expected.

_~What happened? Where are my arms? What did I do?~_

The Hungarian Horntail pulled back as she, too, was trying to understand what she was seeing. _~Wizard? What have you done?~_

Harry twisted his body to see what had happened to himself, and was briefly surprised at being able to turn so much so easily. And then surprise gave into shock as he saw the long serpentine body he now had. A snake-like body with the legs of a bird oddly enough. Even stranger were the large wings he had covered in red and orange feathers.

_~I have no idea,~ _Harry finally answered.

The dragon shook her head in irritation. _~Changing your shape will not save you, wizard!~ _And she lunged.

Harry felt the bite on his…neck, though since most of his body was not discernable from his neck, he wasn't sure which term should apply, not that he was giving it much thought at that moment. But the bite was somewhere between his head and his new pair of wings, that much his body could tell him.

The bite only penetrated his scales slightly, but the pressure of the dragon's jaws was painful to the flesh underneath the scales. In what must have been an instinctive move, Harry wrapped his new serpentine body around the dragon as they began to roll toward the Forbidden Forest.

Soon they were smashing through small trees and bouncing off of older ones, leaving destruction wherever they went. Somewhere he could hear the thundering of hooves as the centaurs ran away from the rampaging monsters. Harry could only hope that none of the centaurs got caught up in their fighting as it was Harry and the dragon that were intruding in their home territory. He wouldn't put it past the head centaur, Bane, to try riddle him with arrows if he thought he could get away with it.

They had been bouncing around in such a tangle of scaly bodies, bashing wings and whipping tails that he hadn't realized just how far they had gone when he and the dragon fell through a giant cobweb between two great trees.

~_We've crashed into an Acromantula web!_~ he exclaimed with alarm as he tried to break away from the dragon.

The dragon wasn't about to let go though. But she had enough sense of preservation to turn her head to see what he was reacting to. In part of the web above them was a large dog-sized spider trying to hold on to it's madly vibrating web.

~_Bah! There is no reason to be concerned about one_ _Acromantula.~ _That said, she sent up a flare of fire that instantly fried the giant spider and burned away at the webbing that lay about them.

_~This forest is the home of hundreds of them! Some many times the size of the one you just killed!~ _Harry was finding it much easier to shout in this new form he had taken, but this was definitely not the time to experiment with his ability to use Parseltongue.

He had only had the one encounter with the giant spiders while in his second year at Hogwarts. While waiting for the mandrakes to be mature enough to use for Hermione and several others to be unpetrified, Harry had poked around in the Hogwarts library and took the opportunity to read a little about the Acromantula colony (or infestation) that lived so close to the school full of young wizards and witches. He hadn't read it long as some of the descriptions had made him rather sick to his stomach. But one thing that did stick out was that Acromantula preferred to hunt in packs. And it was that little bit of knowledge that warned him that there were most likely more of the eight-legged monsters around.

Twisting his head up, Harry was not all that surprised to see six more of the Acromantula lowering themselves down towards them on silken rope made from their own body. What did surprise him was how all six of the gigantic arachnids all seemed to stiffen up, and even turning rather grayish before suddenly dropping like stones only to shatter into shards when they made an impact with the ground.

The dragon began to tighten her grip around Harry again, but before the melee began again, Harry shouted to reason with her to try get her to stop. _~Listen! Can't you hear? The Acromantula are coming! We have to get out of here!~_

The dragon did pause and listen. Then gave a snort. ~_They are running away, little wizard. All know that Acromantula flee from the basilisk. They can never stop their many eyes from looking into your deadly gaze.~_

~_I'm a basilisk?~_ He wasn't sure how to deal with that piece of news._ ~If my gaze is so deadly, then why don't you fear me?~_

_~Are all wizards as ignorant as you, little wizard? Dragons are one of the few creatures immune to the gaze of a basilisk.~_

Harry almost groaned as he remembered Hagrid once telling him how dragons were highly resilient to magic. Basilisks had not been mentioned but he could see how their deadly gaze could be one of the things dragons were immune to.

~_So I'm a basilisk, just for some reason or other one with large wings and birds feet.~ _He gave a shake of his head._ ~Weird.~_

He noted the dragon poised to attack again and shouted, _ ~Stop! We don't have to do this! I don't want to have to kill you!~_

She made a slight coughing sound that Harry took to be laughter. ~_And how would you do that, little wizard? I have already told you that I am immune to your gaze._~

~_True, but I'm betting that you are not immune to basilisk venom. So far I have not tried biting you, but I will if I have to.~_

She hissed at that and tightened her grip around him.

_~Plus, you have to think of your eggs. If you die, who will watch over your hatchlings? Would the dragon handlers try to raise them, or will they try to get other mothering dragons to take your babies in with their own. I really don't know what usually happens in that scenario but I'm rather certain you don't want your hatchlings to find out. And neither do I. A mother should be there for her children.~_

She was getting angry again. Harry decided to switch gears. _~How about if I promise to not go near your clutch of eggs, you promise to stop fighting with me? Deal?~_

_~What of your contest?~ _she snorted, igniting a bush that was in front of her.

_~If I haven't gotten the false egg by now, I might as well forget about it. I may have been forced into this competition, but there is no way your eggs should have been put at risk. Even though that wasn't my fault, I do apologize for it. Personally, if I could, I'd hand over to you whoever came up with the idea to put any of the dragons' eggs at risk, not to mention our lives.~_

He could tell he was being weighed for any signs of falsehood. So he stood and waited.

_~It is possible that I may have misjudged you, little wizard.~ _She began the process of detangling herself from Harry's new form. Harry tried to help even though he found it difficult as he was still unfamiliar where everything was on his body.

_~I get that a lot,~ _he remarked. Once apart, Harry took the moment to try standing on his bird like feet. It wasn't easy, but his wings stretched out automatically to aid him with his balance. After a moment of being steady on his new feet, he twisted his neck around to look at his new wings and feet. _~Whoa! It's weird, but I like it. I wonder if makes me an animagus, or if it was just accidental magic that changed me?~_

The dragon gave him a few cursory sniffs that reminded Harry rather how dogs would greet each other, but that was not an analogy he was going to share with the dragon or it might start the fighting all over again.

_~Have you ever interacted with a basilisk before, little wizard?~_

He nodded. _~Yeah, about two years ago. The Beast of Slytherin living deep underneath my school, a thousand year old basilisk. Bit me right through my arm.~_

_~And you lived?~_ She gave him an incredulous look.

_~I was dying, but was saved when Fawks, a phoenix, cried healing tears into my wound, and thus saving my life.~_

She moved closer to sniff at one of his wings. _~I knew I smelled a phoenix. That must be where you picked up your shapes from, from your encounter with the basilisk and the phoenix.~_

Harry gave his wings another once-over, and stretched them out. _~They do resemble Fawk's wings.~ _He gave the wings on his new serpentine back a few flaps, and began to rise foot by foot into the air._ ~Merlin, I hope I'm as good flying with wings as I am on a broomstick.~ _He was surprised by the actual force his wings needed to push the air to the point that it lifted his body into the air. His surprise grew as he realized the strength he must have in those wings. _~This is so awesome!~_

The dragon began her coughing laugh again. ~_Little wizard, you are behaving like a hatchling.~_

Harry started to make a small circle, surprising some birds that suddenly became like stone and fell to the ground. _~Damn! I forgot all about that deadly eyes thing.~_

_~Close your second eyelids.~_

Harry landed in front of the dragon and his tail wrapped around a large tree. _~Second eyelids? I have a pair of second eyelids?~_

_~Of course you do. How else is a basilisk supposed to get food to eat? Did you think that basilisks consume stone? No, they like flesh just as dragons do, fresh.~_

Harry ignored that comment, and instead concentrated on his eyes. Nothing happened at first, so he blinked his eyes a few times before something like shades came down over his eyes. ~_I think I did it! The second pair of eyelids came down!~_

_~And now I must return to my nest. I do not trust my eggs with all those wizards running about.~ _She clawed the ground to show her unease.

_~Right!~ _Harry agreed. _~Let's get back before anyone does something more stupid than placing school kids against mothering dragons.~_

_~Exactly.~ _She took to the air and Harry quickly followed. It wasn't the most graceful of flights for Harry. His wings were attached to his back at about one-third of the way down his body, leaving the other two-thirds hanging behind him. He managed to curl up the back half of him, but it probably didn't look very dignified.

~Wait! It would probably be better if we came in together!~

She let out a roar of frustration, but she did slow down so that he was able to match her speed.

She looked over at him and began another of her laughing coughs. _~You need to work on your form, little wizard!~_

_~I know. Right now I'm just trying to get back to the arena.~_

Coming in high, the dragon and the basilisk/phoenix hybrid swooped down to the middle of the arena. The dragon glided to her nest, sending a small stream of flame as a warning to one of the dragon handlers that was standing near her eggs.

For Harry's part, he landed next to the finish line. Making sure that his second pair of eyelids were in place, he scanned the seats seeing most of them empty, though some had stayed to see if anything else were to happen. He also noticed that his family -Petunia, Vernon and Dudley- were all still in their seats although they were struggling to stand up but for some reason were unable to, like as if they were glued to the seats. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil seemed to be trying to free them, but now they were all staring at him.

Harry snorted when he realized that with them being stuck there, that they hadn't seen his transformation into his hybrid form.

_This ought to be fun._

He concentrated and returned to his human form, but was still a giant. He gave his aunt a wink, then began concentrating on being normal sized again. He tried a few times before he felt something shift.

As he shrunk, he was hit by a bout of vertigo that knocked him to his knees. He sat down next to the finish line and tried not to throw up.

There was a small sound in the dirt that made him look up to see the model dragon that he had released at the beginning of his Task. Next to the imitation dragon was the golden dragon egg that Harry was supposed to get.

"Oh good, you did it after all." Harry reached out and let the mini-dragon climb up his arm. Then he reached down and picked up the golden egg.

From over by the dragon's nest, the dragon had finished inspecting her nest. Looking over at Harry see saw him with the fake egg. _~How did you manage to get the false egg from my nest, little wizard?~_

Harry nodded to the little dragon that was now on his shoulder. ~_The judges made life-like miniatures of each of the dragons for the contest. While waiting for my turn, I found a way to control this one so while I distracted you, this little version of you removed the fake egg so that there would be no fighting around your clutch of eggs. If it makes any difference, I planned to keep my word. If this little replica of you had not managed to bring the egg to the finish line, I would have just given up.~_

He was startled at the laughing-coughing fit she seemed to undergo. ~_I like you, little wizard, even when you win, you apologize_.~

Hearing something behind him, he saw a most welcome sight. Hermione slowed down from a run to a walk once she saw that Harry seemed okay. "Harry!"

"Hermione!" Harry struggled to his feet, suddenly feeling weaker than he had a few minutes before. He managed a step forward before suddenly crashing to the ground. "Whoa. Not good." Hermione was rushing over to him with a worried expression on her face. "Hey, look I managed to cross the finish line. Well, part of me anyway. The part holding the egg; that's what counts, rrright?"

Hermione's focus was on something else. "Harry, what did you do to your back?" she said with alarm.

"Hhhuhhh?" His head felt funny, almost as if he was intoxicated. "Back? Feels warmmm."

"It's like you're bleeding, but not blood!" She pulled him down flat over her lap. Desperately, she put her hands over the fluid-like stuff pouring out of his back, trying to stop it. "Five holes going down your spine. Did the dragon do this?"

He tried to think, but it was like his brain was turning to slush. "Holesss, baack?" It sounded familiar to him. Something that had happened to him on this day, but before the First Task. "McGongagall. Ssshe-she knows. Petununa, too. Luuunaa."

"It-it's going to be alright, Harry! Madame Pomfrey is coming! And Professor McGonagall is with her." Not that Harry could hear her as he had already passed out. Hermione was now leaning over Harry, pressing her hands and her upper body against his back in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of the fluid. "Oh Harry, please don't die!"

**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_Little bit of a spoiler: Harry lives! And that's all I'm giving away. _

_Still, Harry did complete his task. He showed a bit of how much he had been hampered by the rods by making himself giant-sized. As for the basilisk-phoenix combination- I just really liked it._

_Also, next chapter should have more Dursley interaction._


	5. Chapter 5

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts 5**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

He woke up to pain and a weariness that seemed to cover him like a lead blanket. The pain was all over with some areas that proved to be much more so. As he tried to remember why each of those spots hurt, memories of his deadly tussle with the dragon came to the surface of his mind. Resolutely, he let out a moan to declare his survival to the world.

"Harry? Are you waking up?"

It was a soft, gentle voice, and probably the only one he could consider welcome while still feeling like a dragon had run over him several times.

"H-Hermione?" he groaned. He opened his eyes just a crack before letting them slam shut again, thinking that there was no reason for the world to be that bright.

"Here. Take a sip of this. It's just water. Madam Pomfrey will be by shortly to give you a taste of something revolting soon enough."

"How… long?"

Hermione let out a sigh. "It's been almost thirty hours since you keeled over onto the finish line at the First Task."

He let out another low moan, and Hermione kindly let him have another sip of cold water.

As he laid there quietly for a few minutes, his other senses started to fill him in on his surroundings. His nose picked up right away on the medicinal odors he knew to be found in the Hogwarts hospital wing. He could here crickets and frogs singing their songs loudly in the distance so it had to be sometime in the evening. He tried not to think of what his tongue was telling him what his breath must smell like. But it was his sense of touch that had him confused, not that he wanted to focus on that for long with the way he was feeling. But nonetheless, he could sense that someone, Hermione was his first bet, was laying in the bed alongside him. There was also something warm pressed up along his back that was pushing him up somewhat, tilting him toward the other person in his bed. He figured it to be pillows, but it didn't feel quite right to him.

He steeled himself to risk the dangers of opening his eyes again. "Glasses?"

"Here."

She had started to put them on him one handed before he intercepted her effort and completed the chore himself. With the world in sharper focus, he began to squint his eyes open. Sure enough, Hermione was lying next to him in a Hogwarts hospital bed.

"Um, not that I'm complaining, but…?"

"Why am I in your bed?" She gave him a flirtatious look that startled him. Not that he minded in the least.

"How much of the Task do you remember?"

He had been busy soaking in the sight of Hermione Granger lying in bed next to him, trying to memorize everything. It didn't matter that she was fully clothed; it was just the first time he'd ever had these particular circumstances happen to him.

"Uh, the Task, right. Let's see. I returned with the dragon, changed back and returned to normal size. The model of the dragon I selected to go against brought the fake golden egg to the finish line like I had instructed it to."

"That was brilliant, by the way," she interjected.

"Thanks," he said, managing a smile. "After that point things went dark. But I think you were there."

She nodded, now with a more somber attitude. "Yes, I was there. Never more scared for you in my life, including when I saw you surrounded by Dementors last year." She reached behind her to snag the glass of water resting on a bedside table. She took a quick sip, then offered him a sip, which he thanked her for.

"Professor McGonagall explained it to me," she went on quietly. "Said that your aunt had somehow found something she called dampening rods that had been sticking out of your spine. Five of them. Somehow they existed on a metaphysical level and had been severely lessening the amount of magic that could be in your magical core." She took another sip before putting it back on the bedside table. "Once they were removed, magic began rushing in to fill the void, even more so when you started doing Merlin-level magic during your Task."

"Merlin-level? Really?" He hadn't considered how high the amount of magic he'd preformed would place him; he'd been too busy just trying to survive.

The hard look on her face stopped him from saying anything stupid. "Harry, you ruptured your magical core in five places, where each of those dampening rods had been."

A chill seemed to flow over him almost as if a Dementor was approaching. "Are you saying… am I a squib now?"

She bit her lower lip. Any other time he would have thought to be extremely adorable, but this was not that kind of moment. "We don't think so, though it is still a possibility. A remote possibility."

They've all been warned of the rare occurrence when a wizard or witch would somehow rupture their magical core. It was a rare thing, happening in England about once every twenty-five years or so. Sometimes it was fatal, most times not. But those that survived were never able to use magic again.

He didn't know how it had happened but he was holding tightly to her hand, trying not to shake or feel sorry for himself. "What else happened?"

She paused, considering whether or not to reveal more. But it was Harry, and he would never hide anything from her, so she was determined to do the same for him.

"I could see the magic pouring out of your back. And I did the only thing I could think of. I used my arms and upper body to plug the holes the best that I could. They said that doing that shouldn't have worked, but it seemed to. Nothing else anyone tried to use would stop it. Finally Professor Flitwick came up with the idea that your magic was used to me. Well, that's basically what it came down to. That your magic was accepting of me to work with and that it would not ignore what I was trying to accomplish."

"So you were able to use your magic to plug up the holes in my core?"

She sighed. "We tried that. It didn't work I'm afraid."

He blinked. After what he'd been through, he wasn't up to guessing games. "So they used you as a human bandage?" he blurted out, surprised at the absurdity of that idea.

"They still are."

He closed his eyes for a moment. "What do you mean by that?"

"Please remember that we were struggling to come up with an answer before it was too late and you died. So Professor McGonagall came up with the idea of enlarging my other hand, and shape it to be more formfitting with your back. It had to be thicker, too, so that there was enough of me there for it to be effective."

Harry stared at her, then followed her arm past her shoulder as it went in back of him. "Are you telling me that that is your hand that I am leaning back against instead of some pillows propping me up?"

"Well, Professor McGonagall wanted it to be as comfortable as possible for you so she transfigured some of my enlarged hand to be like pillows for you. It was rather impressive on-the-fly thinking, if I do say so myself."

He gapped for a moment. "But it's core magic! How will that affect you?"

"It might not affect me at all; as it was pointed out to me, nobody knows for sure. And besides, I was already saturated with it before anyone could mention what it might do to me. And I do mean '_might_'. I've had Neville and Luna bring me bring me some books from the library that mention some of the rare occasions people had come into physical contact with magic leaking from another wizard or witch's magical core. Results were… widely veritable to say the least. But it was noticed that the closer the positive relationship between the two people, the more positive or neutral the results."

"Um, what do you mean by '_closer positive relationship_'?" he asked, hoping he wasn't blushing.

"Oh, ah, not necessarily romantic in nature." A blush began to fill her cheeks, but Harry was very glad she didn't turn her head away. "It could be a very good friendship, or a close parent/child relationship. Also spouses, lovers and such."

"But, we…" he pointed back and forth between them. "We should be good then, right?"

She nodded, and looked down, finding it hard to look at him. "That's what everything indicates."

He knew that they were each thinking of how he had asked her out on a date in the Champions Tent, and normally he'd want to enjoy the moment. But he just couldn't help worrying that his magic might be affecting Hermione in a bad way. "Do you know how much longer that… uh, that you will have my back, I guess you could say?" He hoped stating it with a dash of whimsical humor would be enough to distract her from how much he was really worried about her wellbeing. The look in her eye told him that she knew him all too well.

"They said they'd see about separating us in the morning. The main concern is how well your core will seal up on it's own. They brought in several specialists at you aunt's insistence. The headmaster had wanted just Madame Pomfrey and the teachers to mend you."

"My aunt went against Dumbledore?" he rhetorically mimicked, once again surprised at how different she seemed to him from when they were at home.

"I'll say. And the headmaster looked like he was going to have a stroke when he saw her here at Hogwarts."

"Now that I would have liked to have seen. Wait! Did you just say that my aunt was actually able to get Dumbledore to do things her way?"

She nodded. "I saw it all from here next to you."

He tried picturing it, but for the life of him, he couldn't. "How big of a blow up was it?"

She tapped her bottom lip for a moment as if giving it deep thought. "Well, it wasn't very long, but on scale of epic reveals, it's probably right up there with the Boy-Who-Lives-Turns-Into-A-Giant-Pheonix-Basilisk-And-Wrestles-With-Dragons kind of newsworthiness, just a lot less violence."

"Bloody-!"

"Harry, language."

Harry nodded slightly. He could see how excited she was to tell him, and he just had to know. "Okay, alright. But what happened?"

"Well she is demanding the very best specialists to come and see what they could do for you, Dumbledore summons a House-Elf and orders it to take her back home."

"That's it?"

She gave a shake of her head. "Not remotely."

He groaned. "Don't do _Princess Bride _quotes on me right now, Hermione. Just tell me, please."

"You're no fun," she said, giving him her pouty face. He retorted with his best pouty face. "Fine. You win this round, Mr. Potter. Now where was I?"

"House-Elf was called," he supplied.

"Right. So your Aunt Petunia sees this House-Elf reaching for her, and she hollers, '_You aren't taking me anywhere!_' The House-Elf jumped back in terror and said, -"

"Ah, so Mr. Potter is awake I see."

Both teens looked up to see Madame Pomfrey walking around the privacy curtain with a tray of vials that did not look at all appealing to Harry.

"Please tell me that isn't all for me?" he asked imploringly. He saw the amusement in the medical witch's eyes, and began to formulate the idea that Pomfrey was secretly a sadist. Or maybe a coconspirator of Snape's who wanted to make Harry as miserable as possible.

Hermione leaned in close. "If you take all your medicine without any complaining, I'll tell you the rest of the story."

"Merlin! You are in league with Pomfrey, aren't you?"

Hermione answered by sticking out her tongue. Madame Pomfrey merely rolled her eyes as she poured out the correct amount of medicine.

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Vernon Dursley grumbled to himself as he tore into the turkey in front of him. He had jumped at the chance to see his freak of a nephew get torn apart by a wild animal due to the fact that he had illegally become a contestant in an international school competition. At least that was what that greasy-haired git Snape had promised him. Other than that promise, the only other thing that he liked about Snape was his dislike of his nephew, Potter.

"Should have known it was too good to be true," he muttered to himself between bites. Vernon had had to convince his wife to go along, even stopping to pick up Dudley from Smelting Academy for the event. How many chances do you get to watch an ungrateful wretch like Potter receive his just desserts and be slaughtered in front of a roaring crowd? He almost wished his sister Marge knew about the freaks so he could invite her, too. He could have used the morale support.

Things had gone downhill as soon as they went through the castle gates. Petunia had started become antsy, swatting at nothing, and pulling things out of her and Dudley's hair. She had tried having a go at his hair, but he was having none of it. He had offered her a sip from his whiskey flask to settle her nerves. She had just waved it off with a look of disgust, totally ignoring his explanation of using it only for medicinal purposes.

He'd never seen a castle that large or of that well maintained before. If it wasn't for all the freaks staying there, Vernon could see it being a major tourist attraction or even a fancy hotel. And why would anyone want moving, talking portraits? It would have to drive people mad to always know someone is watching you like that. It was unnerving how the portraits watched him and whispered comments to each other. And what the hell was a muggle anyway?

The look on his freaky nephew's face when he saw them there had almost been worth the trip. He looked like he was about to drop one in his drawers. But then that old witch went off on Snape. Enjoyable to watch, but after the slimy git had been blasted with magic from behind. That's when Vernon realized just how precarious his position was here. His nephew, and all the other freaks here, could use magic to their hearts content, and not be in trouble for it. They could even use it on him and his family. And all of them had those magic sticks. Damn!

Only thing good was the food. The old witch with the Scottish name had sent them off to the kitchen for a bit while Petunia spent time with her nephew, though why she would want to do that stumped him.

On the way, they had run into an arrogant blond boy his nephew's age. Rude little freak. But offered him one of his 'Potter Stinks' badges once he knew who Vernon was. Vernon had surprised him by happily taking in and putting it on before going his own way.

As if to prove just how crazy these freaks were they could only access the castle kitchen through a secret passageway. An actual secret passageway through the backside of a painting! Ridiculous! And to get it open they had to tickle a piece of fruit on the painting! Madness!

At first he thought the kitchen was infested with all those four foot tall being dressed in rags with ears like giant bat wings. For a moment he thought that they'd been tricked, that the night's menu was going to be the Dursleys! Fortunately that turned out to be the case. The little buggers had quickly set up a table for them and laid out a spread of epic proportions. It almost made him think they were trying to fatten him up. He'd been hesitant, but Dudley had charged into the food proclaiming it to be good. Reluctantly, Vernon had sampled some of the fare, which turned out to be the best food he had ever partaken of.

No wonder his freak of a nephew looked forward to coming here every year. The food was to die for. Whatever those things working all over the kitchen, they could cook! Best damn meal of his life.

By the time Petunia had sought him out, he was just getting presently full. They head headed out to some arena out on the castle grounds. Along the way, Petunia had made him get rid of his Potter Stinks badge, which should have been his biggest clue that something was wrong.

He'd never realized there were so many of the magical freaks before. There were thousands of them sitting in the bleachers waiting for the show to begin. Most of them seemed to turn their noses up at the sight of him and his family. If they hadn't had those wands, he'd have set them straight! Stupid stuck-up freaks!

Then they brought in a dragon. An actual fire-breathing dragon. Each of the contestants had to get past a dragon and steal an egg or something. Which meant the freak Potter would have to do it, too. Hot damn, things had been looking up.

But even the prospect of seeing her nephew roasted alive didn't even cheer Petunia up. It was almost like he didn't even know her anymore.

The contests themselves were something to behold. It was also a lesson as to just how dangerous magic could be in the hands of someone who knew how to wield it. The first contestant was a tall older teenage boy had been able to turn rocks into various animals to distract the dragon while he made himself invisible and stole the egg. The second was a young French woman who seemed to suck the air out of the arena with her beauty. Now that he was able to think about it, he was embarrassed to the catcalls he'd made, not that he was the only one, but even so Petunia had not been amused at the sexuality this younger woman seemed to exude. Vernon been too enraptured to tell how she had obtained her egg from the dragon's nest, but she did just the same. The third contestant was a thickly built Bulgarian who was evidently an athletic star of some type. He'd been blunt and brutal with his Chinese dragon, so much so that the dragon had accidently stomped on some of her own eggs. Still, the Bulgarian had gained his egg.

But then Potter's turn came. The last contestant. The only reason Vernon and his family were here among all these freaks. Vernon didn't know what to expect but he was rooting for the dragon, and surprisingly so were a lot of the rest of the audience.

At first it had looked like the boy was trying to talk to the dragon, as if a beast like that could talk. They the boy had made his voice really loud to complain to the judges that the dragon was upset about eggs being broken. Somehow the boy had gotten a broom and was flying on it, circling the dragon. And that was right about when it all hit the fan.

The dragon had snapped its chain and was loose on a rampage. Even worse, someone had glued him, Petunia and Dudley to their seats. It was pandemonium as everyone skedaddled to the exits. Fortunately, the dragon had taken off after his nephew.

The two witches who had been showing them around had tried freeing them from where they had been stuck to the bleachers but said that it must be some specialty charm that needs a specific wording to release them.

That wouldn't have been too bad, except that the dragon came back, and it had a twenty yard long snake with wings for company. The dragon had gone to it's nest while the snake-thing had landed by the finish line and transformed into a giant-sized version of his nephew. How could he have that kind of power? Vernon had had him kept up in the cupboard under the stairs for nearly ten years. If the boy had turned into that thing at any time during that period, the house would have been toast, and probably their lives as well.

"Vernon, are you even listening to me?"

He glanced up at his wife. She had managed to find him in the castle's kitchen a short time ago and was relaying the latest news about that blasted nephew of hers. "Yes, Pet."

"Dumbledore was going to have one of the House-Elves take us home, even though I was adamant about staying to see how Harry was doing."

"You should have just let him take us home."

"With Harry all banged up and nobody able to determine his condition? Vernon, I'm surprised at you!"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Then what happened?"

"I told the House-Elf that I wasn't going with it anywhere, and it said, '_Yes'em, Lady Ravenclaw_.' Now can you imagine that?"

Vernon tossed aside a turkey drumstick that he had finished picking the meat of, and gave a belch. "What's a Ravenclaw?"

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Not the finest of chapters, but I'_ve had an encounter with whatever stomach bug is going around the family.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

**Chapter 6**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

Albus Dumbledore spat out his lemon drop. With the mood he was in he needed something stronger than his favorite sweet.

Up from his chair, the old wizard went over to a cabinet. Rapping his knuckles on the middle shelf, he said the password '_scrumdiddlyumptious bar' _which then revealed the headmaster's liquor cabinet.He looked past the licorice wine, the chocolate brandy, peppermint schnapps, butterbeer, and the peanut brittle rum, in favor of old fashion firewhisky.

"There are some things my old friend Mr. Wonka just cannot beat," he mumbled to himself as he began to pour a rather deep glass of the potent drink.

He took a strong sip before setting it down on his desk while he began pacing about the room. "Damn Severus and his juvenile need to belittle Potter!"

"Then do something about the man already!" called out the portrait of Quinton Trimble, one of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts, kept to advice the current headmaster. "The man is the hemorrhoid on the Hogwarts educational system!"

Albus spun around. "Severus needs to be seen supporting the Pureblood extremists. He definitely needs to be seen going against Potter."

"With this farce of a tournament going on," spoke the portrait of Basil Fronsac, who was holding a book and wearing a pointed green hat with pins sticking out of the brim, "the whole school is going against the lad. You need to let up on the youngster."

"Basil's right," agreed Vindictus Veridan, another portrait of a former headmaster. "Let me spend some time with young Potter. I can at least help him hone his defense skills; I can even teach him some spells that I never put in any of my books."

Dumbledore shook his head in agitation. "No! Definitely not! No one is to teach Harry any more spells for the foreseeable future until I have an understanding of what is going on and how it all happened!"

Headmistress Eoessa Sakndenberg spoke up from her portrait. "Just go and ask the boy."

"And when he asked the inevitable questions, what then, how do I answer any of them?"

There was a snort of disdain from a portrait. Phineas Black was looking at him with more disgust than usual. "Do what you always do, man. Evade answering, tell him it's for his own good or some nonsense like you usually do."

Instead of answering right away, Dumbledore wearily walked back to his desk and took another drink from his glass. "I don't think that option is available to me anymore." He leaned tiredly against the desk with his arms supporting him. "Harry needs to be pliable; he need to turn to me for guidance, for direction and protection." With one hand he wiped wearily at his eyes. "He needed to be willing to die to destroy that piece of Voldemort's soul that was stuck in his cursed scar." He sighed heavily. "Or he did until his aunt somehow removed it from him."

"Potter's no longer contaminated?" he heard another portrait asked, though he didn't pay attention to which one it was.

"No. I checked and rechecked. Young Harry is clean from that vile thing."

"Then he never had to suffer all those things you allowed to happen to him, did he?" came the scathing tone of Dilys Derwent, a former healer and headmistress from the 1700's.

The old wizard's shoulders fell. "No, it appears I made a grave error."

"One of many you mean!" called out the painting of Headmistress Heliotrope Wilkins.

"Now, now, everyone calm down," Headmaster Everard could be heard saying. "Most of us made a point of disagreeing with Headmaster Dumbledore's actions concerning the Potter heir for a decade now. And we were right to do so. But as he has now seen the error of that line of thought, we are obliged to help him rectify his actions to the best of our ability."

There was grumbling among the portraits, but their position as portraits in Hogwarts meant they had to serve the current Headmaster whoever that may be.

Even in the state he was in now, Albus knew that honeyed words worked better than scorn. The trouble was his esteemed colleagues knew him too well so any such actions on his part would have to be genuine, and even then it would be suspect. There was also the fact that his portrait would one day be among them, and he didn't want to give them any reason to lash out at it in revenge.

"Albus?" The quiet voice of Headmistress Phyllida Spore took a moment to be heard. "Did I hear you right? You said Potter's aunt, Petunia Dursley, is here, in Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore took a deep gulp of the firewhiskey this time, belched out a fireball, and then nodded.

The loud outbreak of yelling began to fill his office making the old mage wince, before taking another sip of his drink. Then, needing to be heard, sent off a thunderclap with his wand. "Enough! For now the situation is this: Harry Potter no longer needs to let himself be killed now with the horcrux somehow removed. Evidently his aunt had the power to heal him all along, she just needed to come here first for Hogwarts to remove the many bindings that I had put on magical core back when she was a child."

"Of course she was not supposed to come here!" snapped the Walter Aragon portrait. "If a child steps onto the land of Hogwarts, the wards will automatically remove any magical bindings on a person's magical core so they can get used to their magic and control it."

Dumbledore nodded. "And because of that I had to use the dampening rods that Gellert had been experimenting with on young Harry, but even those have been removed somehow."

"Using those rods on young Potter and others was criminal!" barked Headmaster Dexter Fortescue. "How could you do something so evil?"

"It was for the Greater Good!" Albus declared.

Armando Dippet looked down at the Dumbledore from where his portrait hung. "Albus, I'm not even sure I know you anymore. These actions of yours – letting Sirius Black rot in Azkaban, placing the young Potter heir with relatives that his parents didn't agree to, making his relatives be abusive, making yourself his magical guardian, blocking the Potter's will, stealing money from the Potter vaults, making an illegal marriage contract." Dippet shook his head, shamed at the actions of his former protégé. "Can you even see how far you have fallen, Albus?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Dumbledore called out, slowly turning so that he could see each portrait. "I believed the boy had to die! There was no one else I trusted to be his magical guardian! Sirius would never have allowed what had to be done! And with Harry having to die, he had no use for the money! I needed it to block the initiatives of Malfoy and other purebloods or the laws they would put in place would devastate the Wizarding World! Plus, I have to pay my spies, and they don't come cheap! The Dumbledores have never had the money to pull that off! And as for the marriage contract, I'm trying to at least keep the Potter line alive!" He took another drink before slamming the glass down hard onto his desk. "I did it all for the Greater Good, but if this gets out, I'll be ruined. No one will listen to me. Voldemort will have no resistance when he returns." His hand rubbed against his forehead, trying to work away his growing headache.

"What are you going to do about Petunia Dusley?" came the stirring question from Headmistress Phyllida Spore. "She is the heir of Rowena Ravenclaw, an heir of one of the four founders stands within Hogwarts again. Something we all swore to ensure from ever happening again!"

Dumbledore winced, as he hoped they would have forgotten about that subject. They had been fortunate with Tom Riddle that neither they nor Riddle had known he was actually the heir of Slytherin until he neared graduating. Riddle hadn't ever realized the position he could have obtained.

"Thanks to my manipulations, Petunia has a strong dislike for magic, as does her husband. Hopefully that will be enough to have her leave and never return."

"What if the dampening rods on her, the ones that influence her, have been removed, too?" asked the painting of Ambrose Swott.

He sighed, letting his arms fall down in defeat. "I don't know. But if she does claim her seat as an heir to Ravenclaw, she still won't have much control."

"And if another heir appears?" remarked Headmaster Vulpus. "If they were to join together?"

"No, the only other known heir is Voldemort," Dumbledore pointed out. "I very much doubt that the two of them would join together. And while some believe the Potters to be related to Gryffindor, they were actually only stewards to that family. I was curious, so used some of young Harry's blood to conduct a genealogy exam. As for Hufflepuff, it is generally believed that the line is extinct with the death of Hepzibah Smith, no relation to the student Zacharias Smith. Only I have managed to find a few squib descendants that had moved to Canada."

"So you think you hold all the cards again, do you?" Phineas Black looked down his nose at the current Hogwarts headmaster. "How soon until you realize you are doing everything wrong again?"

Dumbledore, in a fit of rage, threw his drink at the portrait, coating it with firewhiskey.

"Strike a nerve, did I?" Phineas chuckled at the headmaster's burst of anger. "Hmm, interesting. I didn't know that a portrait could taste alcohol." The firewhiskey covering the portrait was quickly absorbed into it. "Ah, not the same as the elderberry wine I keep in my hipflask, but it was nice to try something different. I think the quality of firewhiskey may have actually been improved on since my day." He swayed a little to the side. "Potent, too," he said, as he burped a small fireball.

"I say, Albus, old boy," called Dippet. "Would you mind splashing some of that this way? You wouldn't believe how long it's been since I've had a nip."

Dumbledore stormed out of his office to the outcry of the wizards and witches of bygone days calling out for some alcohol. The last thing he heard was the roaring laughter of the Sorting Hat, and the calling for house-elves to bring drinks for everyone.

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Vernon drummed his knuckles on the table at a rapid pace. "So you are descended from one of the four people who built this place, right?"

Petunia drew in a deep, nervous breath before nodding. Now she would see how he would take this news. He abhorred magic and any connection to it just as she had. But things change, and whether she liked it or not she was now changed forever, too; the one big problem hanging over her was would Vernon be willing to change, also?

"So do you inherit this place? Is it yours?" His eyes were calculating as he looked around at the surroundings of the kitchen, the house-elves were tidying up after supper. The kitchen was his preferred place to be if he had to be here, and was the only place he felt he could unwind; the house-elves, even if they were freakier than his nephew, knew how to take orders, and each meal they made seemed to be better than the one before. Once it was realized that they were going to be spending the weekend, they had been assigned a guest suite in the castle, and while spacious, it still was made of stone walls, and had no television or radio, just old books.

"Well, I'm not really sure about all that," she responded hesitantly.

"Hmm, have to have some lawyers look into it then. Do you get anything else as the sole heir of this Ravenclaw dame?"

Petunia looked flustered. "I-I don't know. I guess I could ask Professor Flitwick tomorrow. He's the Head of House for Ravenclaw, and has been for a few decades now so he might know. Plus, he might have an idea on how to contact the Gringotts bank to see if they have a Ravenclaw vault. Filius is part Goblin so he might have some insights on finding if there is anything that can be claimed at Gringotts."

Vernon wiped his greasy hands and lips with a napkin before tossing it over his shoulder where a house-elf plucked it out of the air and sent it to be laundered. "Flitwick? He was that short freak that was fawning all over you, right?"

"Vernon, it's best to be polite to him. I've heard he's a Master Duelist before becoming a teacher here at Hogwarts. One of the best in Europe."

"That pipsqueak? Bah, he's just more a freak than the rest of them. I could knock him over with a good sneeze." He chuckled to himself at his moderate attempt at humor.

"As I've said, Filius is part Goblin, and I understand they can be particularly nasty when insulted." She sighed, dreading this conversation. "And that's another thing, dear. I don't think it's a good thing to keep going around calling them freaks."

"What, now that you've found another connection to them, I'm not allowed to say what I think?"

Her lip trembled a bit, and yet her eyes managed to harden. "I'm saying that everyone here carries wands around, and they all know how to use them in ways that we haven't even begun to fathom yet. Do you really want to make enemies around here? On the way over here I saw some boy trying to flirt with some girls who were not at all interested. When he wouldn't leave them alone, they hit him with a spell that left him laughing hysterically on the ground, helpless."

Her husband grunted in acknowledgment (_or maybe it was just a belch_). "That reminds me, did they ever catch whoever stuck us to the bleachers during that mess with the dragon?"

She sighed heavily knowing that Vernon was purposely redirecting. "No, Filius said it could have been anyone. Most likely it was a prank done before the dragon even got lose."

"What! So whoever left us unable to leave our seats just gets away with it, even though they left us to be eaten alive by a dragon?"

She folded her arms over her chest. "What do you want me to say? '_Yes, they will get away with it'_? Well whoever it was probably will! Get over it and help me deal with what we _can_ deal with!"

His face purpled as he stood there not saying anything. "Fine! Tell you what, you figure it all out and let me know about it on the weekend. Right now I have to figure a way to get home so I can get to work in the morning. One of the last things we need is for me to get fired from Grunnings."

"Pardon, Lady Ravenclaw," said one of the house-elves, partially covered with flour and various condiments. "Bristly hears Lady Ravenclaw's large husband needs to go to home? Bristly can take large husband. No problem!"

Vernon was about to yell at the house-elf, but saw the dessert tray he was carrying over for him to partake of. "Eh, yeah, you can get me home? Tonight? It's not that appar-whatever thing that that Snape bloke did to us. Felt like I was being squeezed to death."

Bristly shook his head, sending his ears and clouds of flour flying around him. "Bristly can make travel much more comfortable."

"How soon?" he asked as his hand took one of the brownies on the tray to stuff in his face.

"Bristly can do it now," said the cheerful creature, glad to be of help.

Vernon gave his wife a glance, but she said nothing, leaving it up to him whether he was going or not. "I suppose I should take Dudley back to Smelting, as well."

"Actually," Petunia interjected. "I would like to have Dudley here with me for the next couple of days to… keep me grounded, I guess. This is a lot to take in, and I know you have your work, it's just I don't want to be totally alone making these decisions. Though I guess I could ask Harry to help… if he is even talking to me."

Vernon began to purple again, as he worked on not choking on the moist brownie in his mouth. Problem was he knew she was just speaking her mind, and not attempting to manipulating him, even if just hearing that she might take advice from that freak of a nephew of hers brought up the bristles on his neck. No, he'd give her a week to think things through, then on Friday night he'd come back and help her figure out all the bloody inheritance that she had coming and how to get the most money out of it. Then she would see Vernon for the hardworking hero that he was.

"Fine, keep Dudley with you. Just don't let those young witches get their talons into him! I'll be back on the weekend and you can tell what you've worked out then. For all we know, you may own this bloody castle. Wouldn't that be a lark! We could kick the lot of them out on their broomsticks! Ha!"

Petunia noticed Bristly looking at Vernon aghast, and she shook her head. "Very well, I will see you on Friday or Saturday. Bristly would you please return my husband to 4 Privit Drive in Little Whinging?"

Vernon reached out and took the dessert tray. "I'll just take this with me so it doesn't go to waste."

Bristly gave Petunia another worried glance before taking ahold of Vernon's sleeve and popping away with him. In three seconds Bristly popped back to the Hogwarts kitchen and fell to his knees in front of Petunia. "Oh please, Lady Ravenclaw! Please, don't close the school!"

Petunia was shocked at the display the little creature was making. Even more so when she noticed that all the other house-elves in the kitchen were now staring at her with terrified looks.

"I didn't say that I was going to do that," she said awkwardly. Bending down she tried to get Bristly to at least look her in the eye. "But do you really like to stay down here in the kitchen working so hard. Surely, you'd like to be free to see the world."

Instead of comforting the house-elf, she had sent him scampering away. "No! No! Bristly is a good house-elf! Bristly has not done wrong! He swears he hasn't!"

As gently as she could, she held up a hand for him to hush. "I'm not understanding something, and it is evidently very relevant. What was it that I said that has upset you so?"

Bristly, now shaking, carefully looked up at the Ravenclaw descendant. "You-you says Bristly would be sent away."

"Not exactly what I meant. But why would that scare you so? The world isn't that scary of a place."

The house-elf just continued to stare at her with his large, forlorn eyes. Sighing, Petunia sat on the kitchen floor next to Bristly and leaned back against a table leg.

"Bristly, you may have noticed that I am rather unfamiliar with the Wizarding world. I am telling you this because I really have no clue why you are freaking out about leaving this place. I don't know what that means to you."

With trembling breath, Bristly sat up a little. "House-elves must be bonded to wizard family or magic place like Hogwarts where they can serve, otherwise…" He shivered at the very thought. "Otherwise, a unclaimed house-elf will be undone like Winky." He motioned over to a broom closet that opened up to a pathetic creature pouring out onto the kitchen floor knocking over several empty glass bottles in the process.

It was a flabbergasted Petunia that got up to see Winky, only for several other kitchen house-elves to beat her to it. The little people banished the bottles away while others helped to pick up their obviously inebriated brethren onto unsteady legs.

"What is wrong with him, er, her?" Being closer she could now tell the difference in gender. The other house-elves were visibly upset at the state Winky was in, but seemed unable to do anything about it.

"Winky has been given clothes," Bristly explained. "She has been dismissed from service to her master. She is disgraced. But it is not her fault. So castle house-elves try to help her, but it is no good. Very few house-elves are able to bond to place like Hogwarts after serving a wizarding family for a long time."

While she didn't understand everything that Bristly said, she understood enough to know it wasn't good. "What's going to happen to her?"

"With no one to bind to, she cannot access magic properly. So now Winky's magic core is crumbling. A very painful way to die."

"She'll die?" She looked down horrified as Bristly only nodded. "Isn't there anything anyone can do?"

Bristly hesitated, before looking up at her and nodding shyly. "Youse-" He paused to cleared his throat. "You could be binding Winky to yourself."

"That-that would work?" she asked, suddenly nervous of the idea. Vernon would definitely not approve. Looking down at the wobbly creature propped up against the doorframe of the broom closet made her think of a younger Harry who had been kept locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Guilt began to assail her, and she realized there was no way she could allow Winky just to wither away like that. And if Vernon asked she could always say that she had to take her in after seeing how much Vernon liked the cooking of the house-elves.

Stepping closer to the clueless inebriated house-elf, Petunia knelt down even as the other house-elves made way for her. "Winky?"

The groggy house-elf looked up at her for a moment before turning away. "Winky (_hic_) is not good enough to (_hic_) looka ponn lady."

Petunia looked back to Bristly who nervously nodded. Steeling herself, she reached out and took the poor house-elf's hand in her own. "Winky, if I were to take you on as my personal house-elf, would you stop all this drinking?"

Winky finally turned to look at Petunia, but could only stare at her with an open-mouthed gob-smacked expression, only interrupted by a few hiccups.

"Winky, did you hear me?"

"Winky thinks she is (_hic_) hearin' the butterbeer (_hic_) talkin'," the house-elf finally responded.

Petunia chuckled at that, remembering when her sister had brought back a bottle of butterbeer from school for her to try. It was the start of another fight thanks to her jealousy of her sister, but later, in private, she tried the butterbeer and found it very enjoyable. She had final apologized to Lily. Sadly that had been one of the last times they had had peace between them.

"It's not the butterbeer, Winky. My name is Petunia Dursley, and evidently I'm the heir of Ravenclaw. I need a good, _sober_, house-elf to help with the many nuances of the wizarding world as I've lived an entirely norm-, er, muggle life."

"But (_hic_) Winky is disgraced house-elf."

"Bristly says the reason you were let go wasn't really your fault."

Winky shook her head. "Old master Crouch was very (_hic_) unhappy."

Petunia frowned, but plodded on having had to convince a drunken Vernon to come up the stairs to go to bed on quite a few occasions. She was determined to help this poor, wretched creature. It was then she realized that she was also trying to atone for her treatment of Harry. "Winky, I would really like to have you as my house-elf."

Petunia looked over to Bristy for help only to discover the kitchen now filled with house-elves, leaving hardly any room for movement. Some of the creatures were even standing on the tables, chairs and countertops. Some even sat on the shelves. All watching what she was now doing.

She startled a second when Bristy placed his hands on hers and Winky's. "Just say, '_I take Winky as my house-elf_.' Magic will do the rest."

She blinked, thinking there had to be more to it than that. "You're sure?"

Bristy nodded, and gave an encouraging smile.

She could feel the fear in her heart, as she knew she was taking a defining step into the wizarding world. She took a calming breath, then stated out loud, "I take Winky as my house-elf."

She nearly jumped when her hand and Winky's lit up suddenly. There was a coursing of power that went from her hand and into Winky's. The light went from Winky's hand, down the house-elf's arm, where it flow down her spine, lighting up Winky with yellow light. After about five seconds, the light spread from her spine outward to cover the rest of her body.

"Ohhh!" Winky's eyes widened for a moment, then as the light faded, she preceded to fall back into the broom closet.

Petunia looked horrified, sure that she had somehow killed the poor house-elf. She definitely wasn't prepared for the sudden cheering from the kitchen packed with house-elves.

"She will be fine now," Bristy explained over the loud noise. "She will need to rest. Her core will need to stabilize and adjust to her new connection to you. She will awake in a day or two and be very happy. Maybe too happy. Try to be understanding of poor Winky. Be careful of what you say to her or she might try to do too much to please you."

He waved at two female house-elves who popped away with Winky. "They will watch over her until she wakes. You have done a very good thing today."

Petunia blushed, not having had a real deserving compliment in a long time.

Bristy waved the other house-elves away so that they could return to their duties. A small child house-elf, meanwhile, brought Petunia a cup of chilled pumpkin juice. She looked at the cup nervously for a moment, but not wanting to offend the child she took a sip. Surprisingly, she liked it.

"Hey, mum! You in here?"

"Dudley?" She got off the floor just as her son came in.

"Where's dad? I want to show you both something!" said the exuberant fourteen-year-old.

She dusted herself off, even though the kitchen floor of Hogwarts was immaculately clean. "Sorry, dear, he had to go home so he can head out to work in the morning. Tomorrow's Monday you know."

His face seemed to deflate a bit. "Oh, does that mean I have to head out to go to Smeltings?"

She shook her head. "I hope you don't mind. We made the decision without you, but I was planning to keep you here with me this week."

Petunia was a bit taken back by how her Dudley's face lit up at the prospect of staying at Hogwarts longer. "That's terrific! It's totally awesome here!"

"I'm…glad you like it, dear. Now what was it that you wanted to show me?"

"Oh yeah, Lavender and Parvati were showing me around, and the last place we went was to go check on the dragons before they are shipped back a dragon reserve."

"You went near the dragons?! After we saw what they could do in that arena?"

"We didn't actually make it that far," he said, embarrassed. "There's guards turning any sightseers away. But we did get to check out the arena."

"But there were no dragons there?"

"None, mum, I swear. But we did climb around on the rocks in the middle of the arena. You know, goofing off, pretending there was a dragon, stuff like that."

She decided to just nod to that. He was still a boy after all.

"And then I found it!"

"Found what, dear?"

Reaching behind him, he pulled something out of his back pocket. "Harry's wand! It was stuck between some of the rocks. Must have fallen during his flight around that humungous dragon on his broomstick. And look!"

He gave it a flick with his wrist, and a shower of blue sparks came out of the end of the wand.

Petunia was never so glad that Vernon wasn't around.

**AuThOr'S NoTeS**

_Hey there, readers._

_I brought out a number of new surprises. Hope they agree with everyone._

_I will be covering more of Petunia's family history later, as well as the conspiracy of the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts._

_Vernon needed a break from Hogwarts as well as to get back to work but he will be back._

_I did consider having Dobby be the one to introduce Winky to Petunia, but I thought it would work better to have a house-elf that wasn't going to be biased against the Dursleys because of how they had treated Harry. As for the Petunia/Winky connection, well I wanted to show Petunia freeing herself from the manipulations of Dumbledore. And making her a better human being helps to do that._

_Thanks for reading._

_Please leave a review!_

_Thanks!_


	7. Chapter 7

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

**Chapter 7**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

He felt warm and cozy, which was a rare thing for Harry. There was still some residual pain from his battle with the dragon, but overall the potions he'd been given had reduced most of that. No, it was Harry's opinion that the reason he felt so comfortable was due mainly to having Hermione next to him while he healed. He'd have to remember to say thank you to Professor McGonagall for transfiguring Hermione's arm as both a bandage and pillow for his back. Maybe even get her a Christmas present.

Unfortunately, that comfortable moment was being interrupted.

"He's been listening the whole time!"

"No he hasn't!" hissed a softer voice.

"What?" groaned Harry.

"I told you he was listening!"

"He is now! Because you woke him!" Harry recognized Hermione's defensive tone. Regrettably he also recognized the other voice: his estranged first friend - Ron Weasley.

"What?" Harry yawned while wiping the grit out of his eyes. The first thing he saw was a fuzzy hand holding his glasses for him to put on. "Thanks."

Thankfully the first thing Harry saw was Hermione lying next to him with a book draped open over her chest. Giving her a smile, he then turned see the red faced Ron. "Now what were you waking me up for?"

"You know!" Ron accused, clearly flustered.

Harry let out a sigh. "Ron, I'm telling you again, I didn't put my name in the stupid Goblet of Fire."

"I'm not talking about that," he groused, now a little unsure and embarrassed.

Now Harry was once again confused. "What?"

When Ron didn't speak up, Harry turned to an embarrassed Hermione. "What's he on about?" he asked her.

Hermione had never turned so red in front of him before. "Um, he just… asked me to go to Hogsmeade next weekend."

Realization now set in Harry. Harry had asked her first, not even realizing that Ron might be interested in the sole female member of the so-called Golden Trio. "Oh," he said.

"'_Oh?_'," grumbled Ron. "That's all you have to say?"

"I really don't know what to say, Ron. I had no idea that you liked her, too. It's not like you've been talking to me much lately."

Ron mumbled something that they couldn't hear. Hermione rolled her eyes at his antics. She once again would have to take up the forced role of mediator if there was going to be any hope of them patching things up soon. "Ron, if you have something to say, then say it. Just make sure that it isn't something you would regret saying later," she warned.

He seemed a little angry at what she had said, but after a moment seemed to see the wisdom in her words. "I didn't think you liked her like that either," he admitted.

As both males took that in, Hermione reached over to the side table of their hospital bed to get a drink of water from a glass spelled to keep drinks cold. "Here, Harry, your voice is a bit scratchy."

"Thanks." He took the cup, taking a sip first then several gulps. "Guess I was thirsty."

"Not to worry," she said. "Madame Pomfrey says it's charmed to refill after a little while. It's from a runes school project made by one of the Ravenclaw prefects, a Penelope Clearwater."

"Clearwater?" Ron asked. "That's the bird that Percy was writing to all the time."

Hermione nodded, happy to have a different subject to move on to, and hopefully ease them into putting aside their differences. "'_Was_' is the correct term as Percy ended their relationship this summer when he went to work for the ministry. He told her that her status as a half-blood would hinder his chances of advancement in his career."

"Bloody hell!"

"Language, Ron," she gently reprimanded, relieved to see that he was also offended by Percy's actions.

"If mom ever found that out, Percy'd get a howler worse than the twins ever had. And she'd probably send it when he's at the ministry, too."

"Except that howler messages are banned from the ministry building," Hermione pointed out, unable not to as it was such a part of her nature. "They wouldn't be able to get any work done if they were being constantly harassed by howler complaints all the time."

"Then she'd just go down there and do it in person," Harry said with a laugh.

Hermione and Ron joined in, picturing Molly Weasley marching into the ministry building to give Percy the chewing out of the life time.

"And the best part," continued Hermione, "is that Penelope is now coming to the attention of masters of the field of charms and runes. This glass she created is already patented and shortly to be mass-distributed. And her being in a relationship with Percy would have only helped his career in the long run if he hadn't been so narrow-minded and a prat."

Ron nodded, and slowly he started to see some correlations between what Percy had done to Penelope in regards to how he'd turned on Harry when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. "Yeah, I… Harry, I realized after seeing that dragon that there was no way you would have entered."

"Then why did you?"

The redhead sighed and let out a groan. "It's just, you know, you get everything: all the fame, and the attention, and you have all that money, and the girls are always looking at you."

"Stop right there."

Hermione wanted to scream, but didn't as it would bring Madame Pomfrey running and ejected before she could berate him. "You-you… stupid…Aaargh!" Her fight to keep from yelling was rather frightening. "How long have you known Harry?"

"Same as you. First year on the Hogwarts train." Ron knew he was about to be berated, but also knew he had better just stand there and let it be dished out or he'd regret it later.

"Then you should know that Harry despises his fame, as the thing he is famous for is something that he can't even remember, and part of that event included the murder of his parents. Would you really like to be famous if part of it had to do with a mass murderer killing off your parents who died trying to defend you? And as for the money – does Harry go around buying things all the time, or even fancy things? No, except for his school robes, his clothes all consist of oversized worn out clothes passed down from his fat cousin. And have you ever thought why he doesn't just get new clothes? It's because he's worried about his relatives trying to take all his money from him while he still has to live with them."

"I never told you that," Harry said quietly.

She put a comforting hand on his. "I know. I actually put that together yesterday. Being stuck in bed with you has given me time to think. I am just sorry I hadn't realized it before when it was so obvious all along."

"People see what they want to see," Harry said quietly.

"Well, then they need their eyes opened, too," she spoke firmly.

Ron, meanwhile had been thinking. There's no way he could be happy at being famous if it meant something bad happening to his family. And Hermione was right about Harry's money. Harry's hand-me-down clothes were far worse than anything he got after George and Fred had been through with them. "There's still the girls," he mumbled.

"Seriously, Ron!" She was starting to fume which was never a good sign. "Have you looked at Harry? He's short and way to skinny!"

"Hey!" came Harry's outcry.

"You know it's true," she said. "It's because you weren't fed properly until you came to Hogwarts. And even then you had to go back and spend the summers with the Dursleys who starved you all over again." She turned back to Ron. "As for you, Ron, you've never even gone hungry."

"I'm hungry all the time," Ron said to his defense.

"You've never experienced real hunger. The kind where you sometimes go days without food." Hermione shook her head. "No, your mother kept you well fed, and you grew because of it, taller and with wide shoulders. So you can believe me when I say that when some of the girls here at Hogwarts were looking at you and Harry, some of them were strictly checking you out."

"What? Are you serious?" he asked, looking at her dumbfounded.

"No, that's my godfather," Harry deadpanned.

Ron, however, was not interested in humor at the moment.  
"No, I'm serious! I want names! And what houses do they belong to! Do I have any classes with any of them? What year are they in? None of them are in Slytherin, are they?"

Now Harry cracked up laughing. Hermione breathed in relief. Things were finally starting to go back to normal. Well, as normal as things could be with a school full of teenagers in a magical castle. She had known full well that Ron hadn't thought about her that way until he saw her lying next to Harry. Their ginger-haired friend had always been quick to jealousy, which was an annoying trait to deal with. Fortunately, his stubborn side usually worked with them when they had to do daunting tasks like go after the Sorcerer's stone or go down into the Chamber of Secrets.

"Sorry, Ronald, but you are just going to have to open your eyes and figure out who's looking back."

"What is that? Is that one of those life statement things your mum sent you in the mail?"

Now it was her turn to laugh.

Harry took a moment to collect himself. "Um, Ron, how are things out there, you know, with the other students, with how the First Task turned out?"

The redhead awkwardly began picking at an empty chocolate frog box that had come from a sizable pile of goodies from well-wishers. "Well, there's always going to be some people unhappy with how things turned out."

Harry made a show of rolling his eyes. "Well, I wasn't going to allow myself to be immolated by a dragon just to make Draco happy."

Ron chuckled. "It's probably on his Christmas list."

"Boys," Hermione grumbled, shaking her head. "So what new gripes do people have against Harry now?"

He was now folding up the candy box, making it smaller and smaller. "Your rumble with the dragon kind of… had some consequences."

"How so?" Harry asked cautiously, feeling defensive.

"Well," he began, "that huge display of magic has everyone on edge, which is a good thing."

Harry's brow furrowed. "How is having everyone nervous about me a good thing?"

"You did do quite a bit of damage to the castle."

"Most of that was the dragon's fault!" exclaimed the fourth champion.

Ron nodded. "But she was following you," he pointed out. "The Ravenclaws haven't been able to return to their tower as it's still being repaired. McGonagall and Flitwick have transfigured and charmed several unused classrooms to be used as dorm rooms until the tower has been cleared as structurally sound."

Harry let out a groan. "Ok, anything else?"

"Um, yeah, uh, you see, when you went by the Owlery, it really startled the owls, so much so that they all took off in flight away from the dragon. But since some were in the way, some of the slower ones anyway, the dragon burned them up to clear the way."

Harry's voice caught in his throat before he finally was able to ask, "Hedwig?"

"Her? No, I've seen her about. She's usually roosting right outside the door sitting on the head of one of the gargoyles, but I didn't see her coming in today. She's probably out hunting now."

"No," interrupted Hermione. "I had a letter to send to my parents, and when I asked Madam Pomfrey to send it for me, Hedwig just flew right in quick as a wink. I hope you don't mind, Harry?"

Harry chuckled. "Not at all, the flight will do her some good. I hardly ever have anything for her to do since most everyone I would write to are right here at Hogwarts with me. Please, use her whenever you need."

"Thanks," she said, blushing slightly.

Harry caught the awkward look in Ron's face. "Did anyone we know lose an owl, or were they older school owls that died?"

Ron shifted uneasily. "There… were a few school owls. But some had belonged to students."

"Who?" Harry asked flatly.

"Well, Errol for one. He'd delivered another howler to the twins, and was resting in the Owlery before returning back to the Burrow." Ron tried shrugging it off. "He was old. I'd'a thought he'd have died on one of his flights long before now to tell the truth."

"I'm buying your parents a new owl," Harry stated, feeling guilty of the death of the old Weasley owl.

Ron waved the offer away. "No need, I've sent Pig to the Burrow to manage mum's mailing needs."

"But Pig is your owl, Ron," Harry argued.

"It's not like I use him much," he said nonchalantly. "Besides, I think it could be good for him to run errands for mum, straighten him up, you know?"

They continued talking, and Harry told Ron to let people known that he would pay for replacement owls for any that died. And to make an apology to the Ravenclaws for their inconvenience.

"Yeah, and Harry, I do have to warn you about one more thing," Ron said nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"What's that?" he asked guardedly.

"When you crashed into the side of Hogwarts as a giant, you knocked several portraits off the wall."

"Great. I'm going to be glared at by all the portraits the rest of my years here."

"That's not the worst of it."

"Yeah? What else?"

"You managed to cause Filch's office to collapse."

Harry groaned. "Now he's going to have it out for me worse than usual, too."

"There's more."

Harry looked up at Ron's more than usual pale face. "Damn, it's Snape, isn't it?"

Ron nodded like he was a bobblehead. "Yeah, evidently you and the horntail hit the wall with more force than he had spelled his shelves to withstand. You caused half his potions and ingredients to come crashing down."

"Bloody hell!"

Harry turned to the teenage girl next to him. "Hermione, language!"

"But-but-but… we're lucky the potions classroom didn't explode the castle, or implode or melt part of it away or worse!"

Ron nodded. "Fortunately some of the other safety spells and wards had kicked in to prevent anything too catastrophic. As it is, potions has been canceled for the foreseeable future, which makes Harry a bit of a hero in some people's eyes, as the potions area is closed off while teams of Dwarves clear it out and make repairs."

"Dwarves?"

Ron nodded. "Mainly them. They're the ones working on Ravenclaw tower, too. I guess Dwarves were used in the original construction of Hogwarts. They have a sort of magic affinity with stones and such, you know?"

Hermione nodded. "I know, I read about it in _Hogwarts-"_

"_A History_," the other two completed before breaking down laughing.

Ron wiped a few tears from his eyes. "But the weirdest thing is what happened to Moaning Myrtle. She'd been riding around in the pipes when you hit the wall. When she came up, it was right in Snape's private lab. And all those potions – some still cooking, and all the ingredients, it did something to her when she came up through the floor."

Harry gave him a puzzled look. "But what could it do to her, she's a ghost?"

"But they're magical ingredients and potions, Harry," Hermione reminded.

"Exactly!" Ron practically shouted before Harry and Hermione shushed him, not wanting him to get kicked out of the hospital wing by Madam Pomfrey. "Anyway, she says she was floating up through all that gunk when she realized that it had covered her with a mostly transparent yellow, blue and green film over her body, and that she could now touch things."

"So… are you saying Myrtle is alive again?" Harry asked, not sure how to deal with the thought of that.

"What? No, no, she's just now has a… what did she call it… oh yeah, a Myrtle suit. She's been all over the castle in it. At first she had been terrified until she realized she could touch things and even feel them. But when she has it on she can't float, in fact, she's as solid as us."

"So she's practically alive?"

Ron paled. "No, it's more like an outer shell or garment. She tried eating something in the Great Hall but it just fell inside her, you know, like she was hollow. She was quite upset about it. Especially since she couldn't even taste it."

"That doesn't sound so bad," mentioned Hermione.

Ron began to look even more uncomfortable. "Well, it was dinner time, you see, and I mentioned that she was not very happy that the pudding and pumpkin juice were messing up the inside of her new Myrtle suit. Well, she came out of the suit the only way she knew how, through her mouth. Everyone was watching as she was making a scene. Anyway, it looked like she was throwing herself up."

Both Harry and Hermione looked a bit disgusted. "That doesn't sound very pleasant."

"Tell me about it. I could barely eat after seeing that," commented Ron. "But then it got worse."

"Worse how?"

"Myrtle had evidently been a big fan of pudding in her day. So today, even after eating some and realizing she had no taste, she kept eating, hoping that the taste would kick in, I guess."

"So it was a very full Myrtle suit?" surmised Hermione.

"Yeah, you could say that. Myrtle, since she could touch the suit of herself, began lifting it up by the legs so that the pudding and pumpkin juice would pour out of the eye, nose, ear and mouth opening of her suit."

"That-that sounds disgusting!"

"That's what everyone else was thinking, too." Ron gave a shiver. "But Myrtle wasn't done. She looked inside and could see a lot of pudding still in there so she-" He paused to take a drink from their glass of water. "Sorry, um, so she-she went and began pulling her suit inside out, you know, through the mouth."

Harry and Hermione could only stare, unable to respond.

"A couple of the Firsties ran out of the Hall screaming and crying. Some other people began to get sick all over. It was definitely the worst dinner ever."

"So…" Hermione tried to think of something, anything at that point. "Did the professors get involved?"

"Oddly enough no. It was Harry's aunt that took Myrtle in hand… more or less."

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry tried to think how his aunt and the fifty years dead ghost of a teenage girl would get along. "What… I mean, how…?"

"Evidently even your aunt had heard of Myrtle and her new skin of clothes, so she suggested that they have the house-elves launder it for her. Myrtle never looked so happy before, not even when she's recounting the story of how she died."

"That's… unusual." Harry gave a shake of his head. "It's like I don't know my aunt at all."

Hermione covered her mouth in surprise. "I forgot that you don't know!"

"Don't know what?"

"That your aunt, she found some of those rods that were affecting you in her and your cousin Dudley! They were different types, but Professor McGonagall says those particular rods were used to modify behavior and emotions."

He sat thunderstruck, absorbing that information. "I guess I never really knew them at all then."

"And your aunt just feels horrible about it," Hermione said, placing her normal hand on his shoulder, then brought him in for a hug.

Ron coughed, feeling rather awkward about the display of affection of his two closest friends. "Hey, guys, I'm a little out of the loop here. What rods are you talking about?"

Harry reluctantly let Hermione go. "Well, Ron, it's quite a story, and it's one we still don't have all the answers to, so bear with us, okay? I first found out about them right before the First Task. You see, McGonagall was leading me to…"

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**Riddle House,**

**Little Hangleton**

Bartemius Crouch Junior stayed in his kneeling position as his Lord considered the information that he'd brought from Hogwarts. It was becoming more and more uncomfortable to be in that position as the constant use of polyjuice was causing Alastor Moody's phantom limb leg pain to carry over to his true form.

"You've had no chance to do an examination on the boy yourself?" spoke the small, withered baby-like thing that had been created to temporarily house the spirit of Lord Voldemort.

"No, my lord. Pomfrey leaves little to chance for anyone other than friends to visit the boy. And while that would not stop me, Dumbledore has placed several house-elves to guard over the boy."

"You say Potter was leaking magic from out of his back in several places?"

"Four or five, but I can't say for sure." He licked his lips nervously. "My lord, some of the teachers were talking… They think that with the rupture of his core that Potter might now be a squib."

Voldemort's vile infant form shook in a series of fits so great that Barty called for Pettigrew from the other room.

"Master?" Pettigrew fell to his knees in front of the thing that was Voldemort.

Their lord managed to settle down and look at his two followers. "That was amusing," he wheezed. It took both men a few moments to realize that the fit they thought Voldemort was having had actually been laughter.

They waited quietly, waiting until they would be told what to do.

"As for your '_concerns_' for Potter, I'm sure he will be fine. At least until I am done with him."

Barty, feeling the need to say something, spoke. "My lord, perhaps, with his weakened state, I should steal away with him and bring him to you now, so that you can be restored."

Voldemort gestured weakly with his hands. "There is a reason I had you get Potter into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Barty. Preparing for the contest will force him to push his magic, forcing him to grow and become more powerful. Then on the night of the last Task, when his blood is used as part of the ritual to give me back a more fitting body, I will also gain his increased power to add to what I already have, making me even more powerful than I had been before."

Barty's warped mind danced around for some way to win his master's approval. "My lord, technically, as Moody, I'm not supposed to help any of the Champions, as they are to train themselves. Shall I offer my services anyway and train him on the sly?"

The thing that was Voldemort considered this for a moment. "No, it might bring too much interest in you and jeopardize your position at Hogwarts. Instead, delegate others to help if possible. Also, have spell books and training manuals be sent anonymously to him. That Granger girl should be able to get him working on those."

"Yes, my lord, I think I know several books to start them out on."

"Master," Pettigrew mewled. "Perhaps Snape could be of service. He has a strong hatred for Potter."

"Enough, Wormtail!" came the quick rebuke. "Severus and my other followers are not to be contacted until I am restored to my former glory. Otherwise, some may get foolish ideas of replacing me."

"I would burn the bones out of their bodies if they even thought such a thing!" Barty cried out, spittle flying from him mouth and nearly extinguishing one of the nearby candles.

"I will hold you to that, Barty," the sick, evil looking baby gave a sinister smile of glee. "Now, go back to Hogwarts, Barty. Make sure that young Potter has the help that he needs to grow strong."

Barty rose and bowed, then as he turned he gave Pettigrew a smirk, and then was out the door.

"Wormtail," called Voldemort. "I have need of you."

"Yes, master," Pettigrew called out gleefully, hoping for a chance to outshine Barty.

"I need to be changed. I'm having that awful diarrhea again."

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Ron has patched things up with him in Harry. Yes, he was stupid, and a bit of a jealous jerk (I think all of us have had a time or two when we did that, but it was something we could grow out of) but I wanted to show him, if not maturing, at least trying to make things right between him and Harry. And as for his interest in Hermione, I think Ron first noticed Hermione when she was at the ball with Krum. This time he sees Hermione laying on a hospital bed next to Harry. It's a stupid jealousy moment, and that's why he asked her out. Also not a very bright moment to do it either._

_The Myrtle suit was entirely my idea. At least I don't think anyone else has ever used that idea._

_I wanted to address the idea of why Riddle had Harry go through the whole Tri-Wizard thing instead of just having him kidnapped at Hogsmeade or something. I think building up his magical core is a very possible plot idea._

_Well that's all,_

_Read and Review, please, And Thanks._


	8. Chapter 8

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

**Chapter 8**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

"It's nice to be on my feet again," Hermione remarked as they walked away from the hospital wing of Hogwarts and made their way to the Great Hall. "Hopefully we can go back to our classes soon."

"Sorry you weren't able to go to classes for the last couple of days," Harry said in a sorrowful tone.

"Oh, Harry, no! I didn't mean-" Then she caught the tell-tale smile he was wearing. "Harry! Behave."

"Hermione, I'm the son of a Marauder. I have to prank people at least a little."

Holding her head high, she gave a sniff of distain. "Then maybe you should find a more deserving target than the girl with whom you've asked to go on a date with to Hogsmeade."

He grinned at her teasing. "You're right, and I do apologize."

They continued walking down the hall, side by side. They were still attached by Hermione's enlarged transformed hand that was acting as a bandage to Harry's back. The specialists, mostly Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries, would see about removing her hand in two more days, depending on how Harry's injuries reacted.

With Harry recovering, and Hermione attached, they hadn't had to deal with showering or going to the bathroom. Magic used by Madam Pomfrey vanished the urine and feces while still in the body, thus sparing them some embarrassment. She also used a body cleaning spell on them to keep their bodies fresh, though Harry and Hermione both admitted that as soon as they were separated they were each going to take a long, hot shower.

"So…" Harry began, "Any idea what this special event is that is big enough for Madam Pomfrey to allow us to leave the hospital wing?"

"No idea. I'm just glad that Madam Pomfrey still allowed to go without her. As it was I feel bad leaving her behind to deal with that sudden influx of first year Slytherins all with unique aliments. I swear George and Fred are going to seriously injure someone one of these days with their potion pranks."

"You know they test their prank products out on themselves before trying it on anyone else, right?"

"That's not the point," she stated gruffly. "What if they had tried so many different potions on themselves that it doesn't work the same as it would on a regular person? Or what if the person they test it on has a bad reaction? They could get arrested or sued!"

"Hermione, it may not look like it with the way they joke about and the grades they get, but they are really on their way to being potions masters."

"Then why do they not do better in Potions?"

Harry chuckled. "You are probably one of the top two or three in our year in Potions, look at all the grief you get from Snape for just being better than his Snakes. Can you really blame them for purposely fudging their work in class? Besides, they probably think of it as an elaborate prank on Snape, and maybe their mother, too. Once they graduate Hogwarts, they can show what they are really capable of. And if anyone asks how they could be this good at potions while doing miserably at Hogwarts, all they have to do is blame Snape. It'll have Snape gnashing his teeth when he finally hears about it."

She fumed as she took this in. "He really is an intolerable professor."

"Agreed," he said with a chuckle, leaning in to her.

"Well, it seems Scarhead has decided to leave his home away from home in the hospital wing."

Harry automatically grit his teeth at the sound of Draco's arrogant voice. Seeing him step around the corner with his two min-trolls on either side of him was not a surprise to Harry. What he hadn't been prepared for was when his cousin Dudley followed out after them.

"We've become chums with your cousin Dudley." Malfoy's grin took on a more feral aspect. "I especially loved what he told us about your bedroom for the first decade staying at his place."

Harry's eyes shot to Dudley. But what Harry saw in his cousin's face was more embarrassment and uncertainty instead of the usual cruel hostility. Harry hadn't seen his cousin since that day in the stadium when someone had placed a sticking charm on Dudley and his parents making them stuck to their seats during the whole dragon fiasco. His aunt had come at visit them at their hospital bed and go on and on about whatever new magical discovery she had come across. She had always made some excuse for why Dudley didn't feel comfortable visiting, to which Harry figured came down to the fact Dudley was scared of him because he had managed to turn into a weird giant creature that could tussle with a dragon.

Draco continued on talking, enjoying shoveling the humiliation onto his school rival, and enjoyed it even more as it was being done in front of Harry's mudblood girlfriend. "Crabbe and Goyle especially liked hearing of one of Dudley's favorite games. Harry Hunting I think he called it." Behind him, as if on cue, both Crabbe and Goyle broke out in evil smirks.

"Malfoy, what do you think you are doing here?" Hermione called out defensively.

"I'm not talking to you, mudblood!" Draco snarled.

"Draco." Harry's voice sounded cold and hard. "Were you even at the First Task? Do you even know what I did during the event? I fought tooth and nail with that dragon, and got the egg from her nest. Now are you really sure you want to be calling my girlfriend that name, or do I have to do something to you that I really want to do."

Draco's face faltered, but only for a moment. "Nice try, Potty. Evidently you don't know that word has gotten out that your rumble with the Horntail has ruptured you core, leaving you a squib."

"What's a squib?" They all glanced back at Dudley who became uncomfortable with all eyes on him. "What? I'm new to all this, so I don't know!"

"Means he can't do magic anymore," Goyle supplied Dudley with the answer.

"Oh," was all Dudley said in response, though he looked rather sad.

"That hasn't been proven," Hermione snapped angrily.

"Then have the great and powerful Potter show us," Draco said smugly.

"He can't," she answered before Harry could. "He's been told not to do magic for a few more days."

Draco tisked mockingly. "Too bad, and here we are in an empty hallway with everyone else getting ready for a surprise event in the Great Hall. It's just perfect to do magic with no interruptions."

Realization suddenly came to Hermione. "You gave the Weasley twin products to those Firsties! You wanted them to keep Madam Pomfrey too busy to take Harry and I to the Hall." She pulled out her wand only for Draco to disarm her with a spell from his ready wand.

"Draco, I'm warning you," Harry growled. He knew his positioning was not the best. He didn't have his wand, and wasn't sure if he could use magic even if he did. There was also the problem of having Hermione's arm still enlarged and attached to his back. Even if he could transform back into his basilisk/phoenix form, he had no idea what that would do to her arm. And then there was his magical core to think of. Was it healed? Would it even function properly? Would using magic while still healing injure his core irreparably?

Draco moved closer now that there was no danger. "You know, I think I'd like to see a demonstration of what Harry Hunting all entailed. Dudley here says it helped him to become a star boxer at the school he's attending."

Harry tensed, preparing to use his magic like he had against the dragon: focusing on intent. He wasn't sure what it might do to him. Maybe nothing, or it might shred whatever was left of his magical core.

"No."

That soft answer made everyone turn to the source, one Dudley Dursley.

"What'd'ya mean no?" asked Crabbe, who seemed rather confused. No one told Draco no. Except Potter, which is why Draco had set this up.

"I mean no, I'm not going to do it!" Dudley said more forcefully.

Draco was fuming. He'd been willing to overlook Dudley's upbringing since he was somehow an heir to one of the Founders. It had been a great bonus to learn of Potter's treatment growing up, including Dudley's contribution to keeping Potter downtrodden. But, even so, he was going to have to start taking orders or there would be hell to pay. "Now listen here, Dursley!"

Draco went to jab Dudley in the chest with his wand, only Dudley had slapped the wand away where it skittered down the hallway. The larger boy then socked Draco hard in the jaw causing him to crash into a suit of armor that then collapsed on top of him.

Crabbe and Goyle were only still for a moment before rushing forward to deal with Malfoy's attacker.

Not thinking, Harry called out, "Dudley! Behind you!"

Dudley turned and caught Goyle in the breadbasket, knocking the wind out of him. With Goyle out of it for the moment, Dudley was free to deal with Crabbe. Vincent Crabbe quickly realized that he was not going to have the easy brawny victory he was used to, so like a good wizard he went for his wand. However, in his haste to do so, Crabbe found himself having difficulties getting his wand out of his pocket. He glanced up just in time to see Dudley's fist come crashing down on him, striking him right between the eyes. Turning back to Gregory Goyle, Dudley saw that the Slytherin had decided to try the same thing that Crabbe had done and go for his wand. He hadn't had the same difficulty in pulling his wand out, but that didn't mean he had caught his breath yet. Seeing he only had a moment, Dudley kicked Goyle so hard in the groin, that he could hear Harry gasp in sympathy behind him. Following that up with a blow to the side of his head, and Goyle was down and out.

"Wow, Dud, I see Smeltings has done wonders in your boxing training."

Dudley was looking down on the three boys who had recently befriended him. He still wasn't sure what to make of it all, but one thing he did know was that he didn't want to be like them anymore. For some reason he was changing, or growing up, or something. His mother had told him that he might find himself making some different choices than he had been, and that was somehow related to those strange rods she had taken out of him. But all in all, he didn't understand it all, and that frustrated him. And when he was frustrated, he liked to hit things. Only now he felt that wasn't the answer to everything that it had been.

"Big D, you all right?" he said, hoping that the use of the nickname Dudley had once been trying to get everyone to use would get his attention.

Dudley sniffed. "Don't tell mum about this, alright?"

Harry frowned. "I won't have to. The shining knight Draco there is the biggest whinier in the castle. As soon as he wakes, he'll give his battle cry, '_When my father hears about this…_' and he'll run off crying for his daddy."

Dudley let out a weak chuckle. "Tell me you're kidding."

"I wish that he was," Hermione said.

Draco groaned as he disengaged himself from the battered suit of armor, loudly knocking the pieces of metal off of him, letting it clang loudly off the castle floor. "When I tell my father about this-"

His rant was interrupted by the gales of laughter from Harry, Hermione and even Dudley. Draco fumed even more, but then noticed that both of his goons had also been taken out of commission. "You've attacked the scion of three pure-blood families!" he said with surprise. "I'm going to call the aurors on you! You'll be sure to get time in Azkaban for that!"

"You were here to attack us!" countered Harry. Anger rose within him as he pointed his finger at his brat-like nemesis. "If anyone is going to be taken away by aurors, it'll be you, you little ferret!"

Draco's face barely had time to register surprise before suddenly disappearing, leaving a pile of clothes behind on the castle floor.

"Harry?" asked Hermione

"Uh, yeah?"

"Did you just do something to Draco?"

Harry was looking down at his finger which was giving off a light glow. "I guess so. Guess that means I'm not a squib either."

Before anyone else could say anything, a blond ferret crawled out of the pile of clothes Draco had left behind.

Dudley stumbled against the wall as his legs suddenly felt weak. "You turned him into some kind of rodent?"

All eyes were on the ferret as it looked up at all of them, then with a frightened chirp, it took off down the hallway in the direction of the Great Hall.

"I may have changed his body into one," Harry said, watching the ferret go, knowing that Ron was going to want to know all the details later. "But he's the one that chooses to act like one."

Dudley scratched his right butt cheek, and he considered things. "Am I gonna be able to patch things up with him later? Or is this one of those things that won't go away?"

Harry and Hermione walked up to Dudley where Harry put his hand on Dudley's shoulder. "Welcome to the club of Lifetime Enemies of Draco Malfoy."

Dudley's brows furrowed. "So that's a no?"

Hermione decided to try explain some of the facts of life in the British magical world. "Dudley, you should know that Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe are all children of a group that call themselves Death Eaters, the servants of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Dudley snorted at that. "Really? They won't say his name?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, even Hagrid got the shivers just telling me Voldemort's name."

Dudley glanced down the hall nervously for any sign of Hagrid. Not seeing the half-giant, he regarded them saying, "Voldemort? That doesn't sound very scary."

Harry nodded. "The Dark Lord did quite a lot to make them fear him name. I think in the non-magical side of the world they call it '_conditioning_'. Voldemort's also the wizard that killed my parents. Somehow I survived when he tried to kill me. People in the Wizarding world credit the fact that I survived the killing curse to me, but I think it was actually the result of something my mum did."

"Oh." Dudley scratched at his nose. He'd been told a different version of how the Potters had died, a story that involved alcohol and reckless driving in a speeding car, but that had been before Hogwarts had come to be a part of Harry's life. He half-heartedly wondered what other things that he had been told about Harry were not necessarily so. His mother would probably tell him now if he asked. It would probably be less awkward that asking Harry about it.

Hermione took a glance at Harry before deciding to give Dudley what she considered some much needed advice. "I know we don't know each other," she began. "But you should know that Malfoy and his group, they are very prejudice against anyone who is not a pure-blood wizard, and, well, everyone else."

"What's a pure-blood?"

She looked at him with a bit of surprise. She thought for sure that he had to know at least that much. When Harry didn't go into explaining it, then she did. "Well, pure-bloods have a long family line of only wizards, going back ten generations; Draco is one of those. A half-blood, such as Harry and evidently yourself, have at least one muggle in your recent ancestry. A muggle-born, like me, is the first witch or wizard in their family line."

His face was a bit scrunched up as if he were thinking about something really hard.

"Big D?" Harry asked, getting a bit concerned.

Dudley looked up with a frown. "So then if Draco doesn't like muggle and half-bloods, then he didn't really want to be my friend?"

Harry let out a heavy sigh. "No, he was just using you to get to me. He really hates me, as you have just seen."

Dudley slowly nodded.

"Big D." Harry led them down the hall to where Hermione's wand had landed. "Listen, these Death Eaters I mentioned; they are like magical terrorists. They kill and torture people because they like it."

Dudley stared at him, with his mouth hanging open, flabbergasted. "But-but, then why don't the magic cops do something about them."

"Aurors, Dud, the magic cops are called aurors," he explained to his cousin. "And some have tried, some have even died trying. But the Death Eaters hide behind their titles and pass out bribes. All in all, it's very frustrating for the normal honest witch or wizard who just want what's right."

Hermione brushed some dust off her wand before tucking it safely away. "We really should be going if we are going to make it to this special event. I hope it hasn't already started."

Dudley's eyes widened with alarm. "Oh! We better get going! Mum will royally ticked if we aren't there on time."

The unlikely three moved down the hall at a quickened pace in silence unto Dudley spoke. "Harry?"

"Yeah, Dud?"

"Sorry about tellin' Malfoy about stuff, you know, 'bout how you grew up and all."

Harry's lips tightened, and only thought to say something when Hermione have him a slight jostle with the hand attached to his back. "Well, most people in the magical world believe I grew up being waited on hand and foot, like Draco was. A few even think I'm some spoiled brat who has to be noticed at all times."

Dudley looked at Harry, then shook his head. "They'd have to be an idiot to think that."

Harry gave a laugh. "I know, right." It felt weird, but Harry was starting to feel that he could actually get to like his cousin now that he didn't have those control rods manipulating how he acted.

"Oh hey!" Dudley twisted around as he pulled something out of his pocket. "Look! Mum took me to see this weird old guy who sells wands!"

"Ollivander?" supplied Hermione.

"Yeah, I think so, anyway look!" He held out the wand like it was majestic. "He said it's made of elm and has a griffin feather!"

Harry almost stumbled in surprise. Everyday seemed to get weirder and weirder lately. More so than normal at any rate. First, the Dursleys come to Hogwarts due to Snape trying to cause Harry pain. Then, Harry's aunt could evidently see invisible creatures which led to her removing something called dampening rods from his body and something malicious from the scar on his forehead. He then went on to the First Task and preformed incredible feats of magic only for his magical core to rupture. Sometime after that, his aunt Petunia is revealed to be the lost heir of Rowena Ravenclaw. How this could all be happening was something that Harry found to be mindboggling. And now Dudley had a wand! Dudley, who Harry last remembered, was terrified at magic. Harry was sure that the whole world must be mad. Stark raving mad.

**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_I was going to have this chapter include the next scene in the Great Hall, but it would get too long so I'm sending this part out now while I work on the rest._

_I know this chapter didn't have as big a surprise as the others, but there will be a couple of surprises in the Great Hall! _


	9. Chapter 9

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

**chapter 9**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

The Great Hall was packed as Harry, Hermione and Dudley entered. The visiting students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were mostly still staying at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, though some had broken off to sit with new friends at the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables.

"Lav!"

Dudley's outcry had the effect of having Harry and Hermione turn to each other and silently mouthed '_Lav?_'.

It was quite a surprise when Lavender Brown jumped up excitedly to run to meet Dudley, who embraced her and swung her in a circle.

"Is this really happening, Hermione?" Harry asked quietly. "Because I am just not sure any more."

Hermione nodded. "I think I know how you feel."

Dudley quickly waved them over to where there were some open seats near where Lavender had been sitting. Parvati Patil moved over so that Hermione and Harry could sit down. Harry moved cautiously with Hermione next to him as neither had had much of a chance to practice their coordination together as Madam Pomfrey had kept them on strict bed rest.

"I see you two have grown close," Parvati spoke teasingly to Hermione. "Anything you want to tell your roommates?"

"Harry's been a perfect gentleman," Hermione said politely. But knowing her two gossip queen dorm mates, she knew she had to give them something or they would never let her alone. "Though I can tell you that he had asked me to go with him to Hogsmeade on a date."

Parvati and Lavender squealed with delight at this tidbit of news. Girls from every house turned their way, every one of them knowing that the two gossips had something golden to share later.

Harry, meanwhile, had noticed that something had caught Hermione's eye. Following her gaze he saw to where Luna Lovegood was having a conversation with a very happy ghost: Moaning Myrtle. Myrtle had a mostly transparent film over her entire body that bore splotches of yellow, blue and green. It only took Harry and Hermione a moment to realize that the filmy material over the ghost was the Myrtle suit Ron had told them about.

"Well… she seems happy," Hermione finally said.

"Yeah."

He finally shook his head and looked away. Glancing down the table, he saw Ron sitting at the far end, looking upset about something.

"Uh oh. Something is up with Ron," groaned Harry. He was tired of the ginger's melodramas. He'd already had Ron avoid him for over a month this school year, and they had only just patched up their friendship; Harry didn't want to have to deal with another Ron upset over things beyond Harry's control.

"Don't worry," said one of the Weasley twins who were just a little down the table across from him.

"Ronald is just being a git because-" continued the other twin.

"-a certain young lady-"

"-has shown interests-"

"elsewhere," finished the twins together.

Hermione groaned. "I thought after our talk in the hospital wing that he wasn't upset with Harry and I being together."

Fred and George shook their heads in unison. "Our pretty bookworm seems to think high and mighty of herself, Gred."

"After landing the Boy-Who-Lived, who wouldn't be, Forge?"

"True, dear brother" agreed the other twin. "But we were talking about Ron now."

The first twin sighed. "If we have to, Forge." He then leaned in to give a conspiratorial secret whisper that wasn't at all that secret or much of a whisper. "It seems that once Ronnie-kins noticed a particular witch paying someone quite a bit of attention, he became overwhelmed with jealousy."

"Shocking, really," said the other twin, as he yawned in an overly bored manner.

Hermione roller her eyes at the twins antics. "So who is-"

A sudden outburst of giggling on the other side of Harry drew her attention. There, as plain as day, was the explanation to her question. Sitting at the table next to them, Lavender was giggling while flirting with Harry's cousin, Dudley.

"Ohhhh!" Hermione now concluded, trying and failing to understand the dynamics in that relationship.

"What's up with the blond ferret?" Lee Jordan asked from down the table.

Harry shrugged. "We had a bit of a run in with Draco on our way here. You know, the usual crap you can expect for him."

"What? No, I mean the blond ferret at the High Table."

More and more students were taking notice of the commotion going on there. Several of the teachers were trying to spell or smash a very lively ferret rushing to and fro around the drinks and candles. Hagrid made a long grab sideways that almost broke the table, as well as nearly crushing Professor Flitwick. Professor Trelawney gave a shriek of surprise, splashing her drink all over the table in front of her where an overturned candle set it ablaze. Professor Sinistra nearly stabbed the large blond rodent with a wicked looking forked dagger.

It was Snape who paralyzed the ferret as it headed towards him. With a look of disdain, the potions master picked the creature up by it's tail.

Professor McGonagall studied the ferret with scorn. "What in the world made it come up here?"

Snapes eyes shot over to the Gryffindor table in search of two redheaded troublemakers. "Another tasteless prank, I believe."

Igor Karkaroff scoffed. "You allow such things, Dumbledore? No wonder with the lack of discipline I see in regards to your students."

Dumbledore chuckled at the Durmstrang headmaster. "Oh, I believe the youth going amok every now and then can liven things up."

Hagrid brushed the spilt drinks off of his coat as he walked over, managing to send a wink to Madame Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. "Here, there, professor. I'll take that off your hands. I know some hippogriffs that would like a taste of that morsel if you're done with it."

Snape sneered. "I certainly have no use for it in any of my current potions I'm making."

Before he could toss the ferret to the half-giant, a loud voice made itself heard. "You don't want to do that, professor."

Snape's beady eyes locked onto Harry who was helping Hermione to her feet. "This is your doing, isn't it, Potter. One hundred points from-"

"Perhaps we should hear what he has to say first, hmm, Severus?" Minerva McGonagall gave him a cold, hard look that told Snape more than he wanted to about what she thought about him.

Dumbledore stretched out a hand to Harry, gesturing for him to speak.

Harry glanced at Hermione, who nodded for him to go on. Letting out a heavy sigh, Harry began. "When Hermione and I left the hospital wing, we were beset upon by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle."

"Utter rubbish!" barked Snape.

"Regardless of how you want to look at it, that's what it was! And at the end I evidently did some accidental magic that turned Malfoy into a ferret."

The room filled with hushed whispers. Evidently quite a few people had believed that with his magical core having ruptured that he was now a squib. Some had even placed bets on the matter. Bets that the Weasley twins were now gleefully collecting. At the far end of the High Table, Professor Moody fell off his chair laughing so hard.

Severus Snape was now eyeing the ferret he was holding by the tail with new interest. Placing it on the table, he unfroze it. The ferret jumped to it's feet and began squeaking a high pitched rant that no one in the room could understand, but many believe some of the squeaks could have been translated to say '_When my father hears about this…!_'

Gritting his teeth, Snape spoke the most basic reverting spell at the rodent that was his godson. It instantly became apparent that there was something that he hadn't taken into consideration. Draco was now standing on top of the High Table naked as the day he was born. And to make matters worse Draco was still ranting so much he hadn't noticed his lack of clothing. "-and you were just going to feed me to a beast or use me as potion ingredients! My mother won't-"

Laughter filled the hall so suddenly that no one could hear Draco, let alone explain to him that he didn't have anything on. Snape moved to grab his wrist to pull him off the table, but Draco jumped back and ended up falling off the table, creating even more laughter.

As Draco was picking himself off the floor, he realized his lack of apparel, and went into flight mode. Grabbing two plates off of the teachers' table, Draco held one in front of his groin and the other over his butt as he ran down the Great Hall towards relative safety in the Slytherin dorms.

Harry could barely hold himself and Hermione up as they were laughing so hard. He was happy to note that Ron was rolling on the floor laughing as Draco sped past him.

"Potter!" roared Snape as he stormed around the table.

"Hey, you did that, not me!" Harry pointed out, as he wiped away some tears from laughing so hard.

As he rounded the High Table and jumped down from the platform, Snape drew his wand, pointing it's red glowing end directly at Harry.

Harry, instantly sober, pulled Hermione in back of him, making himself a human shield if the potions master actually tried any spells.

Professor McGonagall had had quite enough of Snape's actions. As the headmaster seemed to be willing to not take any actions himself, she would!

A beam of light flew true from Minerva's wand striking the potions master, and transfiguring his body into that of a small squeaky bat that seemed to be having a nasty tantrum. Amidst the sudden cheers of the majority of the student body, Professor McGonagall could be heard yelling to the flying rodent. "Professor Snape, I will not tolerate this behavior against a student! Your animosity will end or your career here will!"

Albus Dumbledore placed a hand on his deputy's shoulder. "Perhaps it would be better to-"

"It would have been better if it had been you who had stopped Snape as he charged down at Potter with his wand drawn; but you did nothing! Mr. Potter didn't even have a wand!"

Annoyance began to show on the headmaster's face. "I fully trust Severus-"

"Well the rest of us plainly don't! His hostility towards students not of his own house is legendary, and that is nothing compared to his enmity towards Mr. Potter!"

Dumbledore knew he was going to need another headache potion, and soon. He'd been busy all week working with Amelia Bones on dealing with outing the Daily Prophet for using compulsion spells hidden in the pages of their newspaper. Both he and Amelia were certain that Lucius Malfoy was behind it, but proving it seemed to be impossible. The workers of the press and the editor were under magical vows so as to not be able to reveal who all was involved. To make matters worse, one of the press operators had been able to destroy the arithmancy code and some of the rune design they had been using to influence the many readers. Over all it was a win, but without the full rune display and the code they could only prove some of their charges. They also could not prove who the mastermind or masterminds were or, even more frustrating, what their agenda was. He did admit that being able to have the method to alter readers opinions would have been a great boon to have for the Greater Good and the side of the Light.

On top of that he had also had to handle a dispute in his position as Supreme Mugwump when some Tibetan wizarding tribes were found to be poaching yetis from a magical preserve. The potion ingredients collected from yetis were banned due to the fact that the yeti population had dropped so low. While some naturalists were attempting to help the yeti numbers grow again, local wizarding tribes who had made their living from hunting yetis were refusing to acknowledge this ban and had forged connections with several international black markets to get money. And, though he could never prove it, Dumbledore was sure that one of those black market groups were the goblins of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. There was definitely a connection with the fearsome Dracul clan in Eastern Europe.

As it was he'd been gone from Hogwarts for several days only returning tonight to find Minerva still hostile with him and with Severus. "Minerva, it is not good for the students to see the staff fighting among themselves."

"Then why have you not done something about him before now?"

Her cold glare bit into him, surprising him with her growing animosity toward the school's potion master. Perhaps a new subtle loyalty potion keyed for her to be more accepting of his judgment. He hated resorting to such tactics, especially to someone he considered a friend, but he really couldn't have the deputy headmistress question his reasons over and over, and in public, too. No, that would not do at all. Severus had to stay at his post as potions master and head of Slytherin. He had to be seen as loyal to the Death Eaters and Voltemort. If not, then his ability to spy in those camps is practically impossible.

"Let us talk of this later. Perhaps after breakfast tomorrow. I believe you have a free period then." He left the invitation open there for her, knowing that all the other teachers had classes at that time, so it would just be the two of them. He hated taking actions with such an old friend. But it was for the Greater Good.

"Very well, Albus," she reluctantly agreed, hoping she had made her point.

He tilted his head down slightly as if conspiring with her. "I think things would progress better tonight if you restored Severus back to his original form."

"Better?" She gave him a raised eyebrow. "I highly doubt it. But insist that you reign him in immediately. I will not have him ruining the special event that is prepared for tonight."

"What special event is that?" he asked, mentally going through things in his head to see if he had overlooked something.

She managed to shake her head and give a dramatic sigh at the same time. "Sometimes I wonder if you read any of the messages that I owl to you when you are attending your other duties." With a flick of her wand, the bat fluttering madly in front of the High Table suddenly reverted into that of Hogwart's resident potions master. Remarkably, Snape crashed onto the floor in almost the exact spot his nephew had landed when he fell off the High Table.

Just as Snape jumped to his feet to screech further at McGonagall, Dumbledore's wand shot out a silencing spell at him. Snape started to rant, even in silence, but soon thought better of it, and stormed off to his rooms, his robes billowing behind him ominously.

"You know he's going to be unbearable for weeks, right?" Minerva asked the older wizard.

"Yes, I suppose," admitted Dumbledore, not looking forward to the weeks ahead. "But now tell me what this special event is about."

She gave him a coy look. "How about instead I show you?" That said she rose to her feet and moved over to the podium.

Casting a spell to make herself better heard, she cleared her throat politely. "Please, students, settle down. Please, everyone, return to your seats." She gave everyone a few moments to sit back down and stop talking to their neighbors before beginning. "First, I hope our guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will forgive the unusual theatrics that have been displayed tonight."

Several students snickered before Minerva realized that she should not have used the word '_displayed_' after young Malfoy had run streaking down the Great Hall.

She cleared her throat. "Recently it has been revealed to us that one of the heirs of the Founders of Hogwarts is with us once more!"

Albus Dumbledore started to stand, planning to stop whatever it was Minerva had planned, at least until he knew what it was. His eyes then caught the far door opening, and in came the beautifully robed Petunia Dursley on the arm of the beaming Minister Cornelius Fudge, who stopped their progress just long enough to have a picture taken together. "What have you done, Minerva," Albus groaned quietly to himself.

Minerva continued on in her speech. "While it is still not entirely known why Mrs. Petunia Dursley nee Evans has not shown signs of magic before her arrival at Hogwarts during the First Task, she did start to display magical abilities, some considered rare to this day."

She let that tidbit of information sink in as it would let the idea of Petunia rejoining the Wizarding world be a great deal more accepting if she had a rare magical ability.

"As some of you may know by now, Petunia is not only a descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw, but she is also the aunt of one of our Tri-Wizard champions, Mr. Harry Potter!"

As Petunia and Cornelius came down the aisle, Petunia drug the minister over to meet her nephew. Harry blushed at the attention they were getting, and quickly stated that he and the minister had already met.

The minister then had them go on up to the High Table where Pomona Sprout had places set up for them at the end of the table.

"But now we have one more surprise!" McGonagall went on. "Just as Petunia Dursley nee Evans started to display magical abilities, so did her son, Dudley. And even though he is no longer eleven years old, Petunia had enrolled him to begin his training here at Hogwarts alongside his cousin, Harry Potter."

Harry and Hermione sat their stunned. But when the clapping started, Harry joined in clapping, too, with a great deal of enthusiasm. Dudley, where he sat next to Lavender, blushed profusely, and even ducked down a bit at the sudden attention.

"Professor McGonagall?" Albus Dumbledore stood up with his mind working furiously. How the hell this had come to play was beyond him! Damn Snape for bringing _**them**_ here, and damn McGonagall for making this mess so much worse! "I'm afraid the young Mr. Dursley does not have the knowledge of those in his age group. He'd have to be tutored heavily to even catch up at this rate. While I'm glad he has found his connection to magic," he lied. "He is just not able to attend here at this time." While he was glad that he no longer had to allow Harry Potter to die now that the horcrux was no longer attached to him, there was no way he could allow Petunia or her son to gain a foothold in Hogwarts.

Minerva glanced back with a twitch in her eye, a sure warning sign that he was involving himself in something that she was determined to protect. "Arrangements for his tutelage have already been handled, Headmaster. The matter is settled."

"Minerva, please understand that-"

"The boy will be sorted, Headmaster! Hogwarts wants it, and is in fact quite eager for the heir of one of the Founders to call this place home again! She stirs even now!"

Dumbledore spotted the new speaker being carried in by Filch on a pillow. Dumbledore gnashed his teeth, but knew he could not argue against the Sorting Hat. No headmaster or headmistress could. Though they did not advertise that bit of information. It's one of the reasons that no one could argue about where they were sorted: the Sorting Hat always had final say in matters.

Steeling his face so as to not show his inner turmoil, Dumbledore sat back down and preceded to watch carefully as events unfolded.

Minerva, meanwhile, made her way down from the podium where a stool stood. Looking over to the Gryffindor table she held her hand out. "Dursley, Dudley," she recited, as she usually called name during a Sorting.

Dudley froze for a moment, glancing up at where his mother sat at the High Table first, then over to Harry, and then finally to Lavender.

"It'll be fine." She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. "All you have to do is put on the Sorting Hat and it'll decide where you will go, kay? Oh, and please, try not to go to Slytherin. Not that I'm worried about that." She gave him a nervous grin.

"But-but… it's talking!" he said excitedly.

"And I don't like waiting!" called the Sorting Hat. "Usually I have time to compose a song before the next sorting. So far I was going with '_We either all work together or we will all die alone._' It should grab people attention. Unfortunately, quite a few are just too stubborn for me to hope that they will change their ways. But it is in my mandate to try." The hat let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, let's see what you have to offer, shall we?"

Dudley sat down nervously on the stool, and his eyes followed the Sorting Hat as McGonagall lifted it from it's pillow and placed it on the teen's head.

"Hmm," the Hat said as it fell over Dudley's eyes (_not that it really went over his eyes, it just seemed like it as the Hat began examining his mind_). "Hasn't been used much. Or at least not used well. I can see how those filthy rods you had been subjected to had influenced you. Disgusting things, but fortunately they have not done any permanent damage. In fact, you are already breaking away from those manipulations. Yes, it won't be easy, but you can become a much better person than you had been."

Sitting there in the dark, Dudley thought about what the strange magic hat was talking about. He had been acting rather different. Some of the things he had done, like when Lavender had showed him the inside of a broom closet, he figured was just normal for a boy and girl to do. Kissing turned out to be better than he had ever thought it could be. And he had to wonder why he had never tried it before. Then there was how he was acting around his cousin, Harry. He no longer wanted to insult him just because he was there. He didn't want to hit him either, which was definitely new for him. When he had come across Draco in the hall, he'd hung out with him and Crabbe and Goyle as it felt more familiar than anything else in the castle. Sure, Draco and his two friends were not as cool as Piers Polkiss, but they had been very eager to hear about how Harry grew up. And like a fool, Dudley had told everything, thinking that it would make him cool in their eyes.

"Ah! The regret of hindsight," murmured the Sorting Hat into his ear.

"You-you can see what I'm thinking?" he said, stunned.

"Most definitely, but you needn't worry. I'm not allowed to tell anything I've discovered unless there is something detrimental that needs dealing with."

"Detrimental?" Dudley asked confused by the big word.

"Something that is harmful to you, and… oh, dear, yes, I actually have found something here. Oh, I do apologize but I am going to have to reveal something I found here."

**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Sorry for the cliffhanger. Well, maybe not really. _

_I wanted to show Ron as still having problems with jealousy. I can remember at least two times as a teenager where I found out someone liked someone else and I became instantly jealous of him. Fortunately, I grew up. And I suspect Ron will, too._

_I am also trying to show Dudley's slow rise to growing up, too. Fortunately for Dudley, I chose to remove rods that had been influencing him rather than let him snog a dementor for a while._

_As for Draco…some people are just hopeless. Snape, too._

_Now I have heard from quite a few people stating how original the idea of having the Dursleys come to Hogwarts was. Thank you. At that point I began to wonder how other writers may have handled that story idea, so I recently wrote up a fanfic challenge to see if anyone would take up the challenge. Unfortunately, I have very little experience with forems so I may have messed up the attempt. But I do have a copy of what I tried to post right below. So if you or you think one of you friends might want to try their version of this story idea, please read the challenge below and have at it! _

I recently began a fanfiction story I called '_The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts_'. I have been enjoying it and a number of people have remarked on it's originality. That got me to thinking about how other authors might handle that story. So it you are interested in the challenge, I'll lay out a few rules.

1\. Snape brings the Dursleys to see Harry compete in the Tri-Wizard tournament.

2\. Petunia (or maybe Vernon) turns out to be related to one of the Founders of Hogwarts (you choose which one).

3\. Petunia (or maybe Vernon) and Dudley turns out to have had their magical core blocked as a child, but upon stepping onto Hogwarts the blocks have been released.

4\. Dumbledore responsible for keeping Dursleys ignorant of connection to Hogwarts.

5\. Harry in a relationship with Hermione. And Dudley starting a relationship with Lavender (or someone else)

6\. Dudley is to attend Hogwarts and is sorted.

7\. No smut please. I'm reading this to my little kids after all.

Hope you take up the challenge and enjoy it.

Ordinaryguy2


	10. Chapter 10

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

By Ordinaryguy2

**Chapter 10**

**In The Great Hall**

"Would someone call Madam Pomfrey, please?" asked the Sorting Hat in a more gruffly tone than usual. "I think what I have found here needs to be documented."

A chair at the High Table was tossed away as Petunia Dursley raced over to where her sweet Duddy-kins sat on a stool with the Sorting Hat on his head. "What wrong with my little baby?"

"Mum?" Dudley said in a scared voice. "I can't see anything with this hat over my eyes."

Petunia gave a room-sucking gasp as she looked into her son's sightless eyes. "My baby's blind!" she cried, clutching her only child tight to her chest.

McGonagoll was instantly at the poor woman's side. "Calm yourself, my dear. He isn't really blind." She glared down with a look of reproach at the hat. "Tell her," she insisted.

The tattered animate headpiece seemed to roll it's beady eyes at the hysterical mother's dramatic antics. "It's true, Lady Ravenclaw. I will usually turn off a child's optic senses immediately as I am set on their head so that the child and I can more properly focus on what makes them who they are and thus into what house they should be place," the hat said matter-of-factly. "As soon as I am removed from the child's head, their sight is available to them again."

Murmuring could be heard among the students who had not realized that that had actually happened to them during their own sorting, though quite a few Ravenclaws bragged that they already knew that.

Meanwhile, Petunia sniffed gratefully as she clutched her son tight to her chest. Only when she looked down did she see that the Sorting Hat was trying to twist away from her bosom, even if it was covered by her robe. "Oh!" She stepped back, embarrassed at having been in such a position with that thing.

"_Oh_, indeed," responded the ragged hat crustily, as it straightened itself. "As I was trying to explain, young Dursley's eyes are not the problem. No, the problem he has is rather worse, and will be rather more difficult to correct."

"Worse?" Petunia said, her heart jumping into her throat. "Worse… than blindness?"

Dumbledore had made his way around the table with Minister Fudge following quickly after him. "Perhaps if the Sorting Hat would enlighten us to what he is implying?" the headmaster interjected. Secretly he was delighted at the hint of a possible malady that may force Petunia to take Dudley out of Hogwarts, and thus solve some of him major problems.

"I would rather wait for Madam Pomfrey before divulging this situation," answered the animated hat. "Where is she anyway?"

"We know that answer," responded Hermione, with her good hand in the air. "She had a sudden influx of students that needed various magical treatments just before the feast."

"Draco had arranged it," continued Harry. "He wanted to get me and Hermione alone in the hall."

"Harry, we can't prove that," Hermione reminded him.

Harry wasn't having any of it, though. "Hermione, he boasted about it right to our faces!"

She frowned, not liking the fact that they were arguing. "But he didn't actually say that he had sent the Slytherin first years to Madam Pomfrey. He can easily deny it, leading to the conclusion that he was taking advantage of running into us on our own."

The Sorting Hat had heard more than enough however. "Humph, well, then perhaps a silencing spell to promote some privacy, hmm? Then I can divulge the problem I have found to his mother."

"May Hermione and I be included?" asked Harry, who was a bit nervous. Odd as it was, he was beginning to like the new version of Dudley and his aunt Petunia. Whatever those rods were that had been influencing their personality and who knows what else, he hoped they could return them to whoever had used them on his relatives and ram them down their throats. Let them be the breeding ground for Wrackspurts and see how they like it!

Dumbledore was about to refuse Harry's request, but had not taken into account Petunia rapidly giving her approval. It was beginning to irk him that more and more people seemed to want to get her approval instead of his. True, most of these matters were regarding Petunia's family, but he was still headmaster, and he needed to have unquestionable authority over Harry and Hogwarts or who knows what level of chaos would be unsuspectingly put upon all of them.

Professor McGonagall already had her wand out and after a few waves of it quickly sent up a wide invisible circle around them. "There, that should keep any of the other students from listening in to what the Hat has to tell us. Oh, and Petunia, your sister Lily called that the '_Cone of Silence_' spell. Evidently, the nickname was taken from a muggle thing that she found very amusing."

Petunia, however, was not amused, even if she was grateful to hear another tidbit about her sister's years in the castle. It was something she could cherish later; for the right now, she had her little Duddie-kins to look after. "Please, just let me know what is wrong with my Dudley!"

"Very well, Lady Ravenclaw," stated the Sorting Hat, bowing the best that he could for being a hat. "Are you sure I can reveal this news with those currently within the privacy wards that Professor McGonagall has put around us."

She was just about to say yes when she took a look around at the cluster about them. Professor Flitwick had joined their number as well as the defense professor who always made her feel uncomfortable, 'Mad-Eye' Moody. Minister Fudge seemed to give a reassuring nod, but she couldn't be sure. As for Dumbledore, she wanted to send him away, but knew that as this had to do with a student –or at least potential student– he would waste their time arguing that he needed to be there. "I-I guess so," she finally said, unsure if it would be polite to ask the defense professor to leave.

The Sorting Hat gave another nod before beginning. "As I sifted through his memories, I found some problems with some of the brain functions. Having a target to work with, I concentrated my efforts examining all the memories corresponding to that damage, and was dismayed when I discovered what had happened to young Mr. Dursley and the lengths someone went to to cover it up."

Albus Dumbledore, ill at ease at what the Sorting Hat was bringing forth, let his hand slip slowly down to his wand pocket, running scenarios of what to do when the Hat accused him of somehow injuring the boy's brain when applying the control rods to him as a young child. He didn't know how the control rods could have caused any damage to the boy's brain, but he had to admit to himself that not everything was known about what they did to someone. He could tell that Minerva was almost certain of his guilt. And the way Harry was eyeing him, he was, too. Dumbledore grit his teeth as all he could do was watch his many years of planning fall apart in front of him.

"It happened a little over two months before Harry had been left on your doorstep the night after his parents had sacrificed their lives for his."

"Harry was left on a doorstep?" exclaimed Minister Fudge.

Dumbledore managed to not let out a groan.

"Yes, in the middle of the night, during the first part of November," Petunia threw out. "We didn't even discover him until the morning. We wouldn't have even known whose child it was if it wasn't for the note that had been left in his basket."

Fudge sputtered as he tried to find some words to exclaim what he thought of such a thing. Several of the others looked the same, though Professor McGonagall looked down in shame for her part in the event, even if she had been against it all along. Hermione was hugging Harry tighter than she ever had before. It was getting so bad that he was actually starting to have trouble breathing.

Dumbledore was definitely going to have to obliviate that information from Fudge before the Minister could spread that fact around. Several of the others, too. But at the moment he was more interested in what the Sorting Hat was talking about since Albus hadn't began placing the various control rods in Dudley until he was nearly four.

"It we could please stay on subject for now. I am rather interested in what the Hat has to stay about the damage he has found."

Several people gave him the evil eye, but all silently agreed that this was one topic they couldn't postpone.

The Hat glared at him, knowing full well that the headmaster was diverting their attention on him to keep from answering some rather revealing questions.

Instead, the Hat turned to Mrs. Dursley. "Do you remember the time you had a bad case of the flu around the time of young Mr. Dursley's first birthday?"

"Not very well, I'm afraid," she answered. "I was rather out of it."

"Hmm, yes, so '_out of it_', as you put it, that your husband, Mr. Vernon Dursley, had to take some time off from his work to help take of you and your son."

Petunia frowned but nodded. "That is how I remember it, but how did that affect my Dudley?"

The Sorting Hat sat upon Dudley's head, trying to determine the best way to tell this story. "There is no easy way to tell this, so I shall cover the events as they happened. It won't be the smoothest of explanations, but you will have all the relevant data that you need. It all began on the evening of August the 21st, the second night of Vernon staying at home to aid you in feeling better, not that he was much help to you, was he?"

She blushed at the straightforwardness of the animated cloth hat. "To tell the truth I really don't remember much of that time. I do remember Vernon being very sweet and caring for Dudley well I slept."

The Sorting Hat studied her for a moment before continuing. "There is a reason for that, and we will get to that in a little bit, if you will bear with me."

Her quick nod had the Hat continuing on. "Now on that night, your son was particularly miserable as he was cutting one of his teeth."

"Cutting his teeth?" Harry couldn't help asking.

"Means one of his baby teeth were coming in," Hermione whispered to him. "It's rather painful to the gum line and babies are generally very irritable during that period."

"Oh," Harry managed to reply, filing that information away. There were lots of little things that were normal to know about in regular family life, but since Harry grew up at the Dursleys, he had not come into contact with the majority of them. Even so, he still had the rest of his life to learn about the different aspects of life. The warm connection of Hermione to his back, as well as her leaning into his side, gave him hope that he could still have a good life ahead of him

The Hat continued on, but only after given Harry and Hermione a hard look. "It was nearly half past two in the morning. Your son had been crying for an hour straight at that point and your husband couldn't wake you to take care of him."

Petunia blushed. "I think…, that may have been after I had been vomiting most of the day. I remember being very weak, collapsing in bed with a large emesis bowl."

"Hmm, yes," said the Hat. "I can hear the noises of you in the bathroom from Dudley's memories."

"What? Really? But I don't remember any of that." Dudley suddenly said. His head jerked back in surprise. "Oh wow! I hear it now! Mom, wow, sounds like you were in _The Exorcist_!"

Petunia's looked in surprise. "Is the Hat showing you that?"

"Not really seeing it, but I can sure hear it!"

Petunia blushed until she remembered something. "Just when did you ever see _The Exorcist_, young man?"

"Ah, um, well…"

"As interesting as this family dialog is," interrupted the Sorting Hat, "I would rather like to finish what I was about to do, if you don't mind."

Petunia nodded. "Very well, but don't think this is going to be forgotten, Dudley."

Dudley shifted uncomfortably on the stool, even as the Sorting Hat continued with his account. "What I was about to reveal was that when your husband began to descend the stairs with your son, the younger Dursley puked all over his father."

"Oh yuck! I could taste that!"

The Hat chuckled. "Fortunately for me I don't have taste buds."

Dudley groaned. "Well, I do, and if you don't stop, you'll have me doing a repeat performance. And all I have for a container is the hat on my head."

Harry smirked at the surprise on the Hat's face. He also noted Professor Flitwick chuckling to himself. Even 'Mad-Eye' Moody seemed to have been amused.

"Anyway," continued the Sorting Hat, "Vernon was disgusted and dropped his son from the top of the stairs where he tumbled down the stairs."

Petunia gasped, fell to her knees, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick came quickly to her side. "My baby." She said it so quietly that none but McGonagall heard it.

"Dad dropped me?" Dudley was finally heard saying.

"I-I didn't know." Big, fat tears were rolling down her cheek. McGonagall, having already had one crying session with Mrs. Dursley, quickly transformed a quill into a large handkerchief. "Why didn't he tell me?"

It was Harry that provided the most likely answer. "In all my years in your home, Aunt Petunia, one of the things that I learned earliest was that Vernon doesn't like taking the blame for anything."

Petunia sniffed, wiping her face with the handkerchief. "I must be such a bad mother! How did I not notice something like my baby being injured from falling down the stairs?"

"That wasn't your fault, Lady Ravenclaw," spoke the Hat. "Your dear husband kept you drugged with a large amount of medications while waiting for your son to recover. He seemed afraid of what might be implied if anyone saw your son in his damaged condition."

"Drugged? But all I had in the house was over-the-counter cold medication."

The Sorting Hat looked to become even more grumpy looking than normal. "Your son became conscious off and on over the next few days, but one of the things he overheard was your husband conspiring with your sister-in-law Marge to use some of the medications she uses to knock dogs out."

"They gave me dog medication? That on top of the cold medicine that I was already taking? They could have killed me!"

"Yes," agreed the Sorting Hat. "It's my opinion that the fact that you are a witch was what saved you."

"Oh, he is in so much trouble!" Petunia growled, climbing back to her feet, anger beginning to fuel her.

"Excuse me," Hermione said, with a slightly raised hand. "But the Hat said that the fall had done something to Dudley; he hadn't said what that was."

"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor," the Sorting Hat said with a nod in her direction.

"You can give house points?" the young witch exclaimed with surprise.

The Hat shot out a laugh. "You'd be surprised at all that I can do!"

"Please." Petunia placed a hand on either side of the hat's face. "Just tell me what happened to my baby."

"I'm not a baby," Dudley muttered quietly, frustrated at all this attention and lack of answers.

"Very well then. I will do so if you will just keep your hands to yourself."

Dudley's mother pulled back her hands as if they were burned, but stayed standing right in front of the ragged headpiece, refusing to move until she heard everything.

"Your son bounced several times down the stairs, striking his head badly," informed the Hat. "The resulting concussion was only the beginning of his head trauma. The pressure in his brain had built to such a point that some of his higher functions were damaged."

"My… baby… was…brain-damaged?"

"After you recovered, did you notice him having extreme tantrums, or difficulty thinking? Even zoning out for periods of time?" All eyes turned to Hermione. "Those are some of the signs of a minor brain injury."

Seeing the clueless look in the eyes of those of the Wizarding world, Hermione went on to explain. "Some of those with brain injuries have impulsive anger issues, meaning that they will blow up about something at a moment's notice. They can also exhibit frustration due to cognitive impairment, especially in regards to memory, which would make studying as a student very difficult. Sometimes, even confusion over what's going on right in front of them. Other signs of a brain injury could be threatening or attacking people that anger them, verbally and/or physically."

Dudley's mother shook her head. "My Dudley would never-"

"Mum!" Dudley reached out for her. "That describes me all across the board." When she began to shake her head in denial, he gave a heavy sigh and with a grumble simply said, "Then just ask Harry."

Harry had been totally caught off guard when Dudley told his mother to ask him. He looked at her teary eyes, and then back to Dudley. "I hate to say it but the description fits."

Petunia clenched her fists tightly; her rising risk of a panic attack was just barely being kept in check by the desperate need to do something to help her boy. "You have a magical Hospital wing here, where Harry was recovering; wouldn't they have a magic potion or something that can heal my Dudley?"

"That is not necessarily so." Dumbledore stroked his beard as if in deep contemplation. In reality he already knew the answer, but he so liked to put on a good show. "Head traumas are risky things in both the Muggle and Wizarding world. Wizards and witches direct our magic through our mind. When the mind is damaged, it could cause catastrophe when used in concert with out magic."

"So you are saying I can't do magic safety?"

All eyes were on Dudley now, but they could still hear the devastating news that Dumbledore was delivering. "I'm afraid not, my boy."

Petunia nearly tackled her son. Even so, she did manage to knock the Sorting Hat off Dudley's head.

Professor Flitwick automatically bent down and retrieved the Hat from the floor of the Great Hall. "I'm sure she didn't mean to do that," he squeaked. "However, I was thinking, you said we would be surprised at the things you could do. I was wondering if one of those things you do might be healing head traumas?"

The rip in the Hat that made up it's smile widened greatly. "That is the type of thinking that keeps the house of Ravenclaw famous for it's wisdom!"

"You can help my boy?"

"Easy now, Lady Ravenclaw. Let me explain what I could do before you go all blubbery on me again."

Petunia stiffened, saying nothing, only moving to tighten her grip on her son. Dudley was a bit exasperated, too. Finding out your dad dropped you as a baby that led to long-term effects will do that. The other being that now that he could see again, he could see all the students watching the melodrama unfolding before them even if they couldn't hear them. Lavender, who Dudley had hoped would be his girlfriend, seemed to be terrified of what was happening, as well as exasperated by not knowing what it all meant.

"I can promote some low-level healing in that area of his brain. In addition, I can aid him to learn new reactions to events so that he doesn't revert to just lashing out in anger. But the best thing and possibly the most controversial, is that I can try stimulate certain areas of his brain, especially those areas that I would be trying to heal, to encourage higher brain functions. In other words, bring his intelligence up to the level of his peers. He would still have to learn everything on his own; this would just enable him to be able to do the mental processing."

Dumbledore shook his head in the saddest manner he could muster. "Oh dear, now see that will be a problem. Several laws have been put in place by the Wizengamot ruling against using magic to manipulate a person's brain. Too many times people have either tried to influence what someone else does, or sometimes trying to give themselves greater intellect, and the end results were almost always most tragic."

"But this would help my son!" She turned to Minister Fudge who seemed to weighing the matter in his own mind.

"I'm sorry, Petunia. My hands are tied in this manner."

"Actually," began the Sorting Hat, "That ruling doesn't affect me, as I am a device created by the Founders for that very purpose. I was, I believe the term is, grandfathered in. All I need is the permission of two heirs of the Founders, or one heir and the current headmaster or headmistress. That is one of the safeguards put in place by the Founders."

"Then we can do it!" Petunia said excitedly, and kissed the top of her son's head. "I'm one of the heirs, and Dumbledore is-"

The words seemed to stick in her throat as the headmaster of Hogwarts just stood there shaking his head sadly. "I'm afraid that I believe there is still too great a danger as to how this would affect Mr. Dursley. No, I think we should table this decision, at least for now, until we can consult some specialists on the matter."

"Poppycock!" barked the Hat. "I'm the best hope this young man has, and you know it!"

The headmaster tutted sympathetically. "I have strong reservations again mind magic. I always have been since a tragedy in my family when I was younger. No, I cannot abide by this. Some other way must be available, or none at all. And as Mr. Dursley has made it this far in life in his diminished mental state, I doubt he will have a problem with the rest of his life, though it will have to be in the muggle world. Otherwise, magic could have an untold effect on him."

McGonagall began arguing with Dumbledore along with Petunia and Fudge. Moody stayed at the edge of the group, greatly amused.

Frustrated, Harry led Hermione over to where Professor Flitwick stood with the Sorting Hat. The two had been conversing quietly, only ceasing when the teenagers neared.

"Hat, is there anything we can do so that you can try to help Dudley?" Harry asked.

The Sorting Hat and the half-Goblin professor shared a look. "There is one way," admitted the Hat. "But you may not be totally happy with the results."

"Is it dangerous?" Hermione asked, with a hint of nervousness. She was feeling very protective of him, and did not want to subject him to any other dangers. As it was she knew he had to face the Second Task in February, and she was going to do everything she could to make sure he didn't face any other dangers till then. Even if that was the least she could do.

"Maybe in a social sense, but you already are not one that cares greatly about public opinion, are you?"

Harry stared down at the Hat. Then glanced over at his aunt who looked about ready to pull the wizened old wizard's beard out. "I'll do whatever it takes."

The Sorting Hat groaned. Glancing up at Hermione, the Hat directed the next comment to her. "You really need to teach him not to make such blatant statements. Fortunately, it would be necessarily bad this time, but others could really set him up if he isn't careful."

Hermione blushed, but nodded.

The Hat studied Harry again. "Are you sure about this?"

Harry hesitated, but then nodded.

"Very well." There was a flare of magic that dismissed the silence wards around them. There was another flare that muted those arguing with the headmaster.

"On this day," said the Sorting Hat, whose voice was now amplified loud enough to be heard by all those in the Great Hall, "I declare Harry Potter to be the Heir of Slytherin by the Rite of Conquest, having defeated the Dark Lord no less than three times!"

Harry's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "What-what did you do?"

In a much quieter tone, the Hat answered. "You said you'd do whatever it took. Well, I need another heir to heal your cousin. So you're it."

¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`

**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Well, I'm here at the end of another chapter. This time my big reveal was why Dudley was the way he was. And it didn't have everything to do with Dumbledore's control rods. I know that making Harry the Heir of Slytherin is not necessary a new concept, but I hope I at least made it unique enough to be interesting for everyone. _

_Thanks for reading, now please review!_

_Thanks again!_


	11. Chapter 11

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

By Ordinaryguy2

**Chapter 11**

**THE GREAT HALL**

"You can make me an Heir?" Harry managed to say.

The Sorting Hat gave him a smug look. "Since you not only survived three life and death encounters with the last heir, but defeated him, too, you were already an Heir of Slytherin by conquest, I am just making it official."

Harry felt compelled to let his gaze track across all the students and teachers who had heard the Sorting Hat's sudden announcement. The looks from the Slytherin table were a mixture of shock and angry disgust. The Gryffindors seemed likewise surprised, and Harry could see the accusatory looks that he had been given in his second year returning from when he'd been believed to be the Heir of Slytherin then.

"Hat?" Hermione began, "I just realized something; if Harry's aunt is the Heir of Ravenclaw, why isn't Harry also considered an Heir of Ravenclaw?"

Harry gave her a curious look, to which she mumbled, "Misdirection," to him. He really didn't mind; in fact he was more than okay with everyone focusing on something else. Even he was wanting to know the answer to that particular question.

The Sorting Hat chortled. "Oh, child, I still have a hard time believing you convinced me to put you into Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw." He sent her a wink to which she blushed. "But the answer is very easy as Lady Ravenclaw and Lily Potter nee Evans had different mothers, just the same father."

Harry gaped like a fish at this revelation. He turned to stare at his aunt who looked embarrassed. "Aunt Petunia, is there something you want to tell me?"

She sniffed and patted her nose with a handkerchief. "My mother, her name was Violet, she had a weak heart, or so I was told. My birth had been particularly hard on her, and so less than a month later she passed away." He fumbled with the handkerchief folding it into tighter and smaller squares. "I'm told that it had been a sort of arranged marriage, mostly my grandparents pressuring my mother and father into marrying. They had gotten along alright, at least that's what my father told me, but there hadn't been much in the way of love between them."

"Then…" Harry looked back at Hermione for help as to what to say. She raised an eyebrow and gave him a look that told him he needed to ask these particular questions. "Uh, how did… my grandmother come into the picture?"

Petunia nodded, as if to communicate that she had heard him, but was having a hard time meeting his eyes at this point. "She came answering an advertisement my father had put in the paper. He was a low-end lawyer who didn't have time to take care of a newborn baby. Not if he wanted to keep a roof over our heads. So he hired someone to watch over me. Nichole was her name. I don't know how long it took for them to fall in love, but they did. They soon married and had your mother, my sister. Nichole had named her Lily hoping that the two sisters being named after flowers would bring them closer together."

"Did it?"

"Um, I suppose at first it did," he admitted. "We had been very close in our younger years. I was only a little more than two years older than your mother after all, so our ages were not that much of a problem. No, that came later."

Harry frowned, but Hermione gave him a nudge before he could stall and loose the inertia of the talk. "And what problem was that?"

She sniffed and began dabbing at her eyes again. "One day I noticed more and more how everyone was saying how pretty she was. I then noticed that I looked very little like my sister. Everyone wanted to have some time to talk to her, and not me. I tried various beauty products and hair styles but I couldn't ever draw the attention that she did. Once I began noticing that, I noticed people praising her for being the head of her class. No matter how hard I studied, I could not match her. But I finally couldn't take it anymore when I learned that she had magic and I didn't."

"But it turns out you did have magic," pointed out Harry, hoping to ease her mind. "It's not your fault that some cruel, manipulative bastard bound your magic so tight that it couldn't show itself."

Dumbledore almost went to defend his actions before remembering that no one here knew that he had been the one to bind Petunia's magical core all those years ago. He had considered doing the same to her sister Lily but had a change of heart after seeing how gifted she truly was. He hadn't considered it much of a threat to bring one half-sister in the magical world and leave the other one behind since only Petunia was descended from Rowena Ravenclaw. Either way, it was the growing whispers from the four House tables that brought it to his attention that the privacy wards that had been up had been removed and that everyone in the Great Hall had been straining to hear all that was being revealed about the new Lady Ravenclaw and her nephew Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Perhaps there would be a better time and place to have this discussion?" He gave a slight nod as if to indicate all the eavesdroppers in the Great Hall.

Without another word, Flitwick raised his wand to restore the privacy wards around them again. There would be no delays if he could help it.

Minerva McGonagall placed a hand on Petunia before she could lay into the wizened wizard. "We still have to determine your son's treatment."

"I have to be sorted, too," muttered Dudley, who was eyeing the Sorting Hat in Professor Flitwick's hands with distrust.

The Hat snorted in snide amusement. "Remember, Mr. Dursley, I am your best chance to living a more normal life."

"Normal? There's candles floating in the air, everyone's dressed in robes, and I'm talking to an old, rag hat! How's that normal?" Dudley argued. He had been patient (_at least patient for him_), and for his trouble he'd been told he suffered from brain damage, which led to his mother crying. On top of that, the old man in charge wanted to deny what may be the only way to help him.

"Well, it's normal for here!" the Hat snapped back.

Dudley didn't argue. In truth he had come to love it in the short time he had been here in the castle.

Petunia placed a kind hand on Dudley's head. "How will this… treatment be done?"

"For him, all he has to do is keep me on his head for the next couple of weeks." The Sorting Hat let out a grimace of annoyance. "It'll really be cutting into my song-making time, which is really too bad as I really want to put together a good one as it will be the first time we've had Heirs of the Founders here in such a long while."

"I've got to wear you on my head for _weeks_?" Dudley said, distrust evident in his eyes and voice.

"Day and night," added the Sorting Hat. "And trust me, this will be worse for me than it will be on you. You don't have to sift through and entire mind and try to put things in proper perspective. I could probably have it done in under a week if I had them give you a Draught of Living Death potion. But, no, it's better to spot any flaws in your brain if I keep you awake."

"Draught… of Living Death?" Dudley exclaimed with a squeal of growing concern, his eyes shooting to his mother as if to ask her to save him from people who may be trying to kill him.

Hermione, unable to help herself, quickly volunteered the information that she was sure that neither Petunia nor Dudley knew the answer to. "Draught of Living Death is a potion that puts the one who partakes of it into a magically induced deep slumber."

Seeing his cousin's confused look, Harry added, "It's like a stronger version of that night time cold medicine that your mother gives you sometimes that makes you sleep real deep."

"Oh," Dudley said with a nod to Harry.

"That's what I said!" Hermione said with a bit of indignation.

"Sorry," Dudley apologized, not wanting to get Harry's girlfriend mad at him. She seemed protective of his cousin, and also scarily brilliant, which rather intimidated Dudley. "I understood ever word you said, I just had no idea what you were talking about."

Hermione sulked, but Harry pulled her into a hug that brought a hint of a blush to her face.

"So if we can continue with the Sorting," began the Hat, "I think several of the students are getting hungry. I, for one, can even hear one of the Weasley's stomach through the privacy wards."

"I still say this is too risky a venture to just go rushing in." Dumbledore stood tall and added an extra twinkle to his eye, hoping to encourage Harry at least to follow his example and not override his decision in barring Dudley the corrective treatment that the Hat was offering to him. "The Hat may well mean well, but any manipulation the Hat does to young Dursley's brain, even if for positive purposes, can have devastating effects. As his mother, you must want the very best for him. Let's take some time to see what that could be. There could be some unknown treatments over in Brazil or Australia that may be a hundred times safer."

"Poppycock!" called out the Sorting Hat. "Now you are just playing on the mother's heartstrings! I am the best hope for this boy, and you know it!"

Petunia's lips were clamped together so tight that they appeared white. She was trying to make a decision that could have serious repercussions as to how it may affect her son's brain.

Oddly enough, her eyes sought out the one person whose opinion about things in the magical world she trusted most. "H-Harry?"

Her nephew understood what she was asking. He took a moment to glare into the madly twinkling eyes of the headmaster. Harry wasn't sure but he thought he felt a small compulsion from the headmaster to delay things for now. Whether it was of his own mind or from the mind of the headmaster, Harry shook it off easier than he did the Imperius Curse in Professor Moody's class. Choosing to address his aunt first he simply said, "Trust the Hat." Then to Dumbledore, he shook his head sadly, and simply said, "I am most disappointed in you, old man."

Dumbledore's head snapped back as if he'd been bit. Before he could think of another course of action, Petunia had taken the Sorting Hat from Flitwick and put it on Dudley's head.

The Sorting Hat once again took down the privacy awards in order to publically perform Dudley's sorting. _Now let's see here now. Hmm, you've spent way too much time watching television, in my opinion. Hmm, I think I'll take some time reviewing some of these television shows later. I'm surprised the Wizarding world hasn't come up with a version of it by now._

Dudley tried to not fidget as the Hat on his head poked around in his memories. At one point he could swear he smelled his Aunt Marge's horrid perfume, but realized it hat to do something with the Hat rooting around in his brain.

_Uh, I'm the only one that can hear you right now, right?_ He thought that sentence to the Hat at loud as he could.

_Not so loud! _snapped the Hat grouchily._ And of course you are the only one to hear me. I'm not about to blab your private matters to everyone. If I didn't have to observe strict confidentiality in my duties of sorting children into their houses, no one would ever let me sit on any of their children's heads._

_Oh_, responded Dudley.

_Now let's get down to business, shall we? Hmm, definitely not the bookish type despite your being related to Rowen. That could change once I restore your mind some. Or it might not. So I'll probably hold off on Ravenclaw._

Dudley gulped nervously. He decided that with this thing poking around in his head to confess something he thought he would never tell anyone. _I have trouble… sometimes… reading and stuff._

_Yes, I see it all here, not to worry. You'll have a much easier time reading after I've had time to patch you up some. And when I'm done with you, you can decide whether or not you like books then._

Dudley let out a heavy sigh as he waited for the Sorting Hat to make a decision._ You did this for Harry and all the others, too?_

_Of course I did. I also did so for his paternal grandparents and their parents and so on to a few years after the founding of this school, _explained the Hat._ But we can cover more on that in the weeks ahead when I'm working on your brain. Right now I have to judge your character._

_Kay._

_I don't think that you are cunning or ambitious enough to be a good fit in Slytherin either. Plus, considering your heritage to Rowena Ravenclaw as well as your cousin, quite a few in that House would try to either try take advantage of you or get some form of revenge on you._

_Revenge? For what?!_

_Because of Harry, of course! He's been labeled the Boy-Who-Lived because he's been credited for somehow taking down the Dark Lord even though he was only a baby at the time. A majority of the parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents in Slytherin had been in service to the Dark Lord, so his sudden demise put them on the losing side, which I'm sure you know was not to their liking._

_But he was just a baby at the time it happened, _argued Dudley. _How could it be his fault?_

_Not everyone is willing to think that way._

_Then they're stupid! _Dudley declared.

_Hmm, yes, I do believe you are right. Now for the House of Hufflepuff, you don't really fit the requirements of being hardworking, though you do bear signs of loyalty to your mother, father, and, surprisingly, to your cousin Harry._

_Really? Huh, yeah, I guess I do._

_And now for Gryffindor, the House of the brave. You do have the brash tendency to rush into things. Even so, your fear does tend to trip you up when you see how much danger or trouble you've gotten yourself._

_I'm no coward! _Dudley shouted profusely. _I can be very brave! My mum says so!_

_Bravery doesn't mean you don't experience fear, _chuckled the Hat._ It refers to one being able to push past their fear, to face it and deal with it._

_Oh._ Dudley considered that for a moment, but was suddenly struck by a new thought. _Hey, that was all four houses! Are you saying that I don't fit into any of the Houses?_

_Most children are not a simple fit, _explained the Sorting Hat._ I usually have many factors to consider about the personalities of the children I sort._

_Oh. _He sat their wondering about what it must be like to be brought out one a year to try determine which of the four Hogwarts Houses to place several new kids. _So what do you have to consider about me?_

_One of the biggest things I'm considering is that you will have a lot of catching up to do if you ever hope to graduate with those in Harry's year. It would be difficult, but possible with a lot of work. And even then you might graduate a year or two behind him._

_That-that sounds like a lot of work. And I've never been very good with… well, studying and all, _Dudley admitted. He would be coming in here mid-year, plus four years behind his cousin. Most likely he'd be taking classes with the eleven year olds. It would be like what several of his teachers had threatened him with previously, holding him back a year or two, unless he started doing better in his grades. He'd 'convinced' some of the brainier classmates to do the homework he was supposed to hand in, but he didn't think that would work here. And would probably be discouraged in ways he would find scary. Like when he got that horrible pig's tail from that giant that had first picked Harry up to take him to this place.

_I'll help you learn some new study habits, but in the end you're going to have to apply yourself if you want to get ahead. _The Hat considered Dudley's concerns for a moment before deciding to alleviate at least some of them._ You do realize that you won't be the only one going through all this, right?_

_Huh? You mean you will be, too, since I have to wear you on my head for a couple weeks?_

_No, I mean your mother. Or most likely your 'new study buddy'. She has to learn everything, too, you know._

_W-what? Seriously? I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing._

_It just is. Accept it._

_Um, I guess._

_The Hat sighed. Anyway, you are going to need good friends to help you. I think either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff will do that. And considering how much help you are going to need, those aiding you will have to be very patient with you. Therefore, without further ado, I say you shall find your home in -_

"-**Hufflepuff**!"

Dudley's vision and hearing were returned to him by the Hat to hear the sound of clapping throughout the Great Hall. "Whoa! That a louder greeting than I ever got when boxing at Smeltings."

"You should hear them when they are cheering at quidditch," said the Hat.

"What's quidditch?"

The Hat laughed. "You should have your cousin explain that sometime. He's one of the best players the Gryffindors have ever had."

As Dudley hopped off the stool on which he'd been sitting, Professor McGonagall automatically moved to take the Hat off his head.

"Now, now, professor, I'm staying on Mr. Dursley's head for a while, remember?"

McGonagall shook her head as if shaking off a compulsion. "Sorry, I- guess I just acting on instinct."

"I wonder…" The eyes of the Sorting Hat glared over at Albus Dumbledore who appeared innocent of any wrong-doing.

Dudley had a minute of being wrapped in a tight hug by his mother that left him feeling very embarrassed. As she let go the clapping had finally tapered off. He looked to Harry and his girlfriend Hermione, but they had evidently already gone back to their seats.

He shuffled there uncertain, not knowing what he was supposed to do now. He finally spotted Harry who was leaning back in his seat having a quiet conversation with someone at the table to the back of him.

The young man he was talking to was older than him, and Dudley finally recognized him as one of the contestants in the Tournament that Harry was stuck playing in. The tall youth soon got to his feet, and to Dudley's surprise, came down to where Dudley and some of the professors were standing.

"Hey there, Dudley. I'm Cedric Diggory. I'm one of the Hufflepuff prefects. C'mon down and meet some of your new Housemates," he said with a smile.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

By Ordinaryguy2

**Chapter ****12**

Petunia readied herself in the cozy living room in her small living quarters that she occupied. She had added a few touches to her living area at Hogwarts to make it homier, such as curtains for the windows, a few vases with flowers, doilies on the furniture and a large painting of a forested waterfall scene with a doe and her fawn on one of the walls. Winky had even been able to get her hands on a large La-Z-Boy leather recliner for the corner next to the couch. Sitting herself down on the couch with a deep sigh, Petunia adjusted the tea tray once again even though the house-elves had already set things up perfectly.

Today was the day that Vernon was coming back to Hogwarts. She could have had one of the house-elves bring him back Friday night after he finished work, but she wanted- No! She needed to put some of the things she had learned into perspective first. Plus, Vernon was always grumpy and exhausted by the end of the week, and she'd rather deal with him after he's had a good night's sleep.

Leaning back into the couch, she closed her eyes as she took in some calming breaths, enjoying the smell of the steeping tea, and the soft crackle of the fire in the large fireplace.

She was resting there for a few minutes when a loud popping sound announced the arrival of her new house-elf Winky and Vernon.

Vernon was looking around, orienting himself before focusing on her. "What do you have those things on for?" he said with a frown.

A quick glance down at herself reminded her that she was wearing one of the robes that were commonly worn around the castle.

"Oh, yes, well I thought it best to dress like everyone else here in order to be accepted better." She paused before adding, "Besides the castle can be drafty, so it helps to keep me warm."

Vernon's face began to purple instantly. "You're trying to be accepted by these freaks?" he shouted accusingly. Seeing Winky scampering away from him, Vernon turned and aimed a kick at the house-elf, but easily missed when the house-elf disappeared with a pop.

"Vernon! Don't you dare try to hurt Winky!" she scolded.

"Bah! As if those things deserved any better! There're magical slaves!"

"She may be a servant, but she's not a slave!" his wife snapped at him. "And you are not to hurt her, or even to be mean to her. The Winky I have come to know is a very kind and thoughtful being."

Her husband stared at her flabbergasted at what she had just said. It sounded so unlike the woman that he had known for a decade and a half, he was sure that he was misunderstanding her somehow.

"Why would you even care about a freaky beast like that?" he finally asked, deciding it would be better to get an answer to gauge her response.

"You mean besides the fact that she is a living, intelligent being who is caring and attentive of others?" Some of the hope she had for her husband faded as she saw the confusion in his eyes. "There is also the fact that I've bonded Winky to myself, placing her in my service so I am responsible for her well-being."

Vernon stood there still as a statue for a moment. "So she's your property then, right? You own her?"

She frowned. "I guess the bond could mean that. But that's not quite right." She let go a heavy sigh. "Let's table that discussion for another time, okay?" He seemed about to argue, but relented.

She motioned for him to sit at the La-Z-Boy recliner. After he looked it over and saw that it was not a magically made chair, he decided it was okay to sit in. The snack tray on the side table next to him was also appealing to him. So without further ado, he plopped into the seat, stretched out on the chair and gruffly popped a mini-brownie into his mouth and chomped away. "Damn, I forgot how good those little monsters could cook. These brownie are superb!"

Petunia stiffened at Vernon calling Winky a '_little monster_', but decided to hold off addressing that particular part of Vernon's character just yet. "So how has your week been, dear?" She cursed herself for automatically going with that line of questioning, but determined that it was probably due to all the years of conditioning she had been part of, and would have to break from it.

"The Fosters deal went south like I said it would. Upper management wasn't happy about that, but they could only blame themselves for it. Luckily, I had wrangled a new contract with a new Italian company, or Corgy and the upperheads might have tried to include me in some of the fallout of the Fosters fiasco."

"Sounds nerve-wracking, dear. I still don't know how you can work with some of those back-biters."

Vernon nodded as he snagged a handful of the little brownies. "A man has to provide for his family, dear."

Petunia wrung her hands quietly as she tried to judge the right time to discuss some of the revelations her week had brought upon her. She was just about to say something when Vernon spoke again.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking about this whole Hogwarts mess."

She felt something catch in her throat. "Yes?" she finally asked.

"The whole thing was just so infuriatingly frustrating that I went down to see Marge Tuesday night. Told her the whole thing. All about that nephew of yours and what made him so damn freaky."

"You didn't!" she gasped.

"Of course I did," he admonished her, waving away her concerns. "She didn't believe me at first. Fortunately, I had one of those leaflets they were being handed out before that dragon contest. A couple of the pictures were animated magically." He let out a laugh. "Marge spent about five minutes trying to figure it out, she thought I was trying to pull some type of trick on her. But when I mentioned Hogwarts again, she then remembers hearing someone mention that name before."

Still upset about Vernon breaking the secrecy of the Wizarding World to his sister of all people, she could only sit there and try follow where her husband's story was going. "She had?"

"Took her a minute, but she recalled hearing one of her friends at her winery club mention it. Samuel Kingson is his name. A lawyer who has helped her out legally a few times, you know, when those animal rights people were complaining about the condition of her dog kennels. Marge even sold Kingson a few pups from her kennel."

"Why would he be mentioning Hogwarts?" she said, asking the obvious question.

"That's what we wanted to know," Vernon said, nodding. "So she calls him up. Well, he wasn't about to talk about it over the phone, but he did come over and talk to us that night about it. A thin, tall fellow, dark-graying hair with eyes darting all over the place. Said he was a squid or something."

"A squib?"

"Yeah, that's it."

She nodded. "That's what they call someone from a magical family who is born without magic themselves. They are sometimes cast out of their families or given the jobs of menial servants from what I've heard. I've even heard some may have even killed them as they were considered blemishes to the family name."

Vernon nodded. "Yeah, that lines up with what Kingson said. He was tossed out on his ear about the time he became a teenager. Took it hard, too. Swore revenge. Against his family and all those like them."

"And… did he?"

Her husband shared an evil smirk. "Yep. He became a lawyer. A damn good one, too, to hear him tell it. He even managed to partially specialize in suing those in the magical world. The freak lawyers he goes against don't know what to do with him. And he's not alone either! He and a number of squids… squibs… whatever, anyway, they are all working together to get back at the people who rejected them."

It was a gob-smacked Petunia that sat there, waiting until her brain started processing again. "How-how could they hope to win? I mean, the wizards and witches surely wouldn't stand for it."

Vernon burst out a "Ha!" before shaking his finger merrily at her. "Turns out that those squibs Kingson has working with him are a lot smarter than your witches and wizards give them credit for. They know a lot of loop-holes; they even have a couple of house-elves of their own serving them." He cackled in amusement. "Kingson and his lot are tickled pink to have a chance at helping us take the prize of the Wizarding World away from them!"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, Kingson had me come back Thursday evening to meet his colleagues. Mostly well-to-do people, but all squibs. Anyway, one of them, Terence Prewett, pointed out that we have a good shot at taking this here castle away from the freaks and turning them out on their ear just as they had done to their squib kin! How do you like that for irony?" His laughter filled the stone room causing it to reverberate with echoes.

He paused in his laughter as he reached for another brownie. Looking over at his wife, he paused at her red complexion. "Well, what do you think of that?" he demanded. Not getting an immediate answer, he then asked, "What's wrong with you, woman?"

Petunia run her hands, and let out a heavy sigh. "Winky!"

The little house-elf popped into existence right next to her. "Yes, Mistress Lady Ravenclaw?"

"Could we have two small cups of brandy please?"

The house-elf snapped her fingers and a glass container of the requested drink appeared next to each of the Dursleys.

"Thank you, dear," she said, dismissing the nervous house-elf who quickly popped away.

"Skittish things," remarked Vernon as he leaned over to get his glass. "But they give damn fine service."

Petunia took a sip of her brandy before setting the cup down as her hands were beginning to shake. "Vernon, we need to talk."

"I thought that's what we were doing," he replied, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Vernon, I'm not exactly the woman that you married."

He frowned even more at that. "What are you talking about, woman?"

She rubbed her forehead wearily before reaching into her pocket and bringing out a wand.

"What are you doing with one of those?" he demanded, with growing irritation.

"_Lumos_." The end of the wand lit up with light causing Vernon to jump in his seat. "_Nox_." The counter-charm extinguished the light on her wand and she carefully put it down across her lap.

"What-what?"

Seeing that Vernon wasn't able to get any further in his words, she decided to explain things to him. "It seems that not only am I an heir to Ravenclaw, but I am also a witch."

"How-how?"

She nodded sadly. "It seems someone bound my magical core years ago, possibly when I was a baby. We still don't know why. It only became unbound when we came here, being undone by Hogwarts itself. As it is, after being hobbled so long, my magical core will never be as strong as the students here, but I can still do some magic, as I showed you."

"I-I can't believe you could do this to me!" he spouted, as the rage began to build within him.

"I didn't do anything to you!" she retorted back at him. "I had no say in this matter. In fact, I'm still trying to deal with it all. But what you did is beyond the pale!"

"What on Earth did I do?" he barked back, spraying some brownie bits about him.

"You dropped Dudley down the stairs when he was a baby! Instead of getting him medical treatment, you brought in Marge to help cover it all up! You even let her dope me up with animal tranquilizers to keep me out of it while you waited to see if our Dudders would survive! I was already sick and out with the flu, those tranquilizers could have killed me! Probably would have, too, if I hadn't had a magical core working to keep me alive!"

Vernon's purple face quickly became white even as his beady eyes began to bug out. "How-how…?"

"How did I know?" she snapped angrily, her hand tightening on her wand that was still in her lap. Some of the doilies began to blow off where they had been set as Petunia's magic began to churn around her. "It was made known to me when Dudley was being sorted into which house he would be in here!"

"Dudley was being sorted?" The large man sat up, almost getting to his feet, ignoring the small magical storm that his wife had evidently caused. His mind tried to understand what she was saying about their son. Finally he blinked several times as his mind presented him with the truth that he didn't want to believe was possible. "Are you telling me that our perfect boy is… a freak?!"

"Don't you dare call our baby a freak!"

Several of the crocheted doilies flew across the room and slapped Vernon in the face. Vernon reached up and pulled the doilies off his face with confusion. "What the hell was that?"

"I'm still learning to control my magic," she answered with some of embarrassment. While there was no way that the doilies could have hurt her husband, her magic had still attacked him. As it was such a flimsy attack to the point of being embarrassing, it put a dampener on some of the hostilities that had been brewing. "Magic tends to act up when a magical person is upset, especially before they are trained to contain it."

Vernon collapsed back into the recliner, letting out a low groan. "This is all really happening, isn't it?"

She found herself nodding. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

He just sat there staring at the ceiling to the point that Petunia felt she had to do something to get him talking again. "Tell me why you didn't take Dudley to the hospital all those years ago. He could have died! At the very least I know that he had a head injury!"

Vernon let out a sigh that might have had a barely hidden sob somewhere in it. It was further confirmed when he wiped his eyes with one of the doilies laying on the arm of his chair. He cleared his throat, and tried blinking away the tears that remained. "I don't really talk about the time before I met you. There's a reason for that." He sniffed, then blew his nose with one of the doilies. "I was kind of a troubled youth. Or maybe it's better to say an angry youth. I was always lashing out at someone. Being as big as I was, most people knew to just stay out of my way. Then one day I was trying to convince this honor student at Smeltings to do my schoolwork for me to get my grades up before I flunked out. I ended up putting him into a coma for a week when he refused."

"Vernon!" she gasped.

He nodded shamefully. "The coppers took me in, gave me a hell of a scare treatment. I was underaged so they could only do too much. Still scared the hell out of me. Put me in a cell with some hard time repeat offenders. I was beaten pretty bad. Definitely showed me I wasn't the top of the food chain when it came to ruthlessness. Not even close. Managed to turn my life around fast, distanced myself from the worst of my bad influencing friends, and worked at getting good grades all on my own to get into college. My father pulled in quite a few favors to get me back into Smeltings."

It was heartbreaking to discover that she hadn't known this defining moment in her husband's life, but this wasn't what she was trying to learn about. "But what does that have to do with Dudley?"

He threw his arms into the air in desperation. "How could I take Dudley to a hospital looking like he did when the police have me listed for a history of violence? You couldn't have defended me; you were practically catatonic with the flu that was going around."

"Vernon, you still should have-"

"I panicked! All right? I admit it! But I didn't mean for Dudley to get hurt! I called up Marge because I didn't know what to do!"

Petunia's lips were pursed together so tightly they appeared to be deathly pale. Marge. That baneful woman and her horrid dog. Vernon always looked to his sister when there was a situation he didn't know how to handle. It was probably a good thing that she was out of the country when Harry's Hogwarts letters started to arrive or things could have taken a dark turn for everyone. "What did you let her do?" she asked coolly, keeping her anger in check.

"She came out to check on Dudley. She's dealt with various injuries so she-"

"She treats her own dogs! And she's not even qualified to be a veterinarian! She wouldn't even know what was actually wrong until after an autopsy!"

He flinched at that. "I- she—But Dudley got better, so everything is all right now. Right?"

"No, Vernon." She wiped away at a tear in her eye with the back of her hand. "Dudley did not get better."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I think you know, Vernon. It was revealed to me during Dudley's sorting. That tumble he took down the stairs after he threw up on you caused some damage to his brain. That's why he's always had problems learning. It's also one of the reasons he's had such a quick temper."

"No! No, you must be wrong," he said quietly.

"You've known. And you've always felt guilty about it as well. That's why you always insisted that we shower Dudley with presents. It was to assuage your feeling of guilt over accidently dropping our baby down the stairs. It's also why you would come down hard on Harry whenever he did something better than Dudley at school."

His head hung low, as he mumbled something.

"If you are going to say something, then speak up!" she spoke harshly.

His head snapped up as if stung. "I said it wasn't fair that the little **freak** came into our house only to upstage Dudley!"

Petunia could only gape at him, shocked at what he said as well as the tears that were now freely flowing down his round face. "He was only a baby! He just lost both his parents to a crazed murderer who'd been hunting them for a year or so!"

"Serves them right! They should have fled the country or something sensible like that! Gone to Australia or the States or Canada! Hell, they could have gone to Easter Island and been safe! But, no! They decided to stay in the same country as the loco freak that wanted them put into the ground or whatever those freaks do when they die!"

A twitch pulled at the corner of her eye. "Vernon, stop shouting and calm down before… before… oh, I don't know! Just shut up and let me think!"

They sat there while Vernon made an even worse mess of her doilies.

"Vernon, I just don't know what to do?" she said, exasperated with everything. "We are going to have to find a way to deal with all of this because I don't see how we can go back to the way things were."

With another sniff and a swipe of his sleeve over his eyes, Vernon looked up at her wide-eyed. "Can't we?" he asked with a surprisingly tender voice. "I mean just think about it, if we were to go back home, you could do whatever it was that blocked your magic and we could return to our lives just as it was."

She stood up, carefully placed her wand in her pocket, and walked over to a window overlooking the Black Lake. The breeze coming through the window felt cool, but not chilling due to an enchantment over the window frame. After a few deep breaths, she turned back to Vernon.

Vernon was now sitting on the edge of his chair, and had a contemplative look that told her that he was not happy with her taking so long to answer him. "Don't you want to go back to being a regular normal family?" His tone was a bit colder now, and forced.

"Normal? Is it normal to lock a child every night in the cupboard under the stairs ever since he was a baby? To make him cook as soon as he is old enough to see over the top of the stove? Or to punish him for getting better grades than our own child? Or bar him into a room with only a cat flap so he could get his food. Perhaps we should ask our neighbors and see if they believe we acted in the accepted paradigm of a _normal_ family?"

"Him again?" Vernon growled and socked the arm of the recliner with his fist. "I hate what his very presence has done to my family! He's been coming between us ever since he was dumped on our doorstep! And what kind of people just leave babies on someone's doorstep? And in the beginning of November, at that? Tell me! Is that acceptable behavior in this crazy world here? Is that the kind of normal you want for our boy?"

She held up her hands, and waved for him to calm down, which he took that moment to down the rest of his brandy.

"You know," he said, "you keep mentioning how I mistreated the little freak; when you know quite well that you didn't treat him any better than I did!"

The truth of that statement struck a chord deep within her. She had been outright cruel to her nephew at times. It was shocking to think about. She had even had dreams recently of herself arguing with the ghost of her dead sister over the treatment Harry had received while under her roof. She had tried to make excuses to Lily. Blaming the house work, trying to keep Vernon on a diet, trying to get Dudley to do any of his school work. She even remembered blaming her menstrual cycle and Vernon. Lily, of course, would not have any of it, so Petunia had gone on and on trying to pass the blame onto other things until she began blaming the repressing rods that she had discovered inside her own head. At that point, Lily would stop arguing, smile, and tell her that now she was starting to use her head. And then she would wake up.

She almost stumbled as she practically plopped onto the couch. "Why did I not think of it before?"

"What is it?" Vernon had quickly moved over next to her on the couch, his mood changing to concern.

"I tried telling you before. There were these rods that someone had placed inside Harry, myself and Dudley. I've even found some in Minerva, too. She was not happy about that, that much I can tell you."

"These the rods you said that only you could see or touch?" he asked skeptically.

She sighed and nodded. "Yes, and I know that sounds weird, too. But, they were there. Harry's sudden power surge as well as the change in my and Dudley's demeanor should be a clear enough indicator of that."

His frown increased. "And where are you going with this? What's your point?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"If it was obvious I wouldn't be asking you what point you are trying to make!" his temper snapped.

She gave her head a small shake. "Winky?"

The house-elf returned with a pop, giving Vernon a nervous look. "Yes, Mistress Lady Ravenclaw?"

"Could you please get us two more cups of the brandy?"

Winky snapped her finger, and once again two glass cups of the beverage appeared on the coffee table in front of them.

"Thank you, dear. You may go."

Vernon had already downed most of his drink before Winky popped away. Petunia took only a sip of hers before setting the glass cup down.

"Here's my thought," she said. "I think that you might also have some of those same repressing rods inside you."

His outrage immediately purpled his face as he seemed to swell up. "What?! Now you think I might be a freak, too?!"

"No, no, not that," she tried to explain, though his outrage over the possibility over the chance of being like her and Dudley. "It's just possible someone put those rods in you, too, in order to influence and control you. I have seen a few wrackspurts fluttering around you, but they didn't appear to cluster like they did near where the other repressing rods were so I really didn't think much of it."

She paused to let that thought sink in. Petunia watched as his mind warred against itself, his blood pressure reaching an all-time high.

After a quiet sigh, she spoke again to her husband. "What I am proposing is that you let me check and see if you have any of those rods inside you."

He leaned away from her, now with fear and suspicion on his face. "No way! I'm not letting you do some magic thing to me!"

She let out a groan of frustration. Dealing with her mule-headed husband when he had a set idea on how things had to be was never an ideal time. The last time had been when she wanted to change cell phone companies, which ended up with him giving her the cold shoulder for a week.

"So are you saying you would rather leave magical items inside you that control your emotions and desires?" She laid it out for him in the simplest terms so that even he couldn't argue it away. The very fact that there could be some magical thing inside him, influencing him, was just so offensive to him that he couldn't just say no to her request to check him.

As his thoughts on the matter battered about in his thick skull, Vernon snatched up the rest of Petunia's drink and downed it in one gulp.

Growling, he threw the glass cup with all his might into the fireplace, shattering it even as the trace amount of the alcohol burst into flame.

"Fine! Do it! Take out any magical thingamabobs that any of those magical freaks put in me! Just do it quick before I change my mind!"

A smile now shone clearly on her face. "Very well."

He gulped in mounting fear. "What do I have to do?"

She patted him on the shoulder. It was with sadness that she noticed him tremble at her touch. "Just let me run my fingers through over your head, like if I were looking for lice."

"Fine! Just do it already!"

He leaned his head down towards her and she complied by tracing her fingers through his scalp. The first time was a general brush her fingertips over his scalp before she began to search more thoroughly.

"Sit up," she finally told him.

He did, and she immediately began feeling the area over where his heart was.

"Well?" he demanded, unwilling to wait any longer for an answer.

She stared at him in surprise. "There's nothing. You are who you always are."

He let out a laugh. "Well, that's a relief! You had me really worried there!" He reached for his glass, but it was empty. "Hey Winky! We need two more glasses of brandy in here!"

Petunia said nothing as tears started to fall from her eyes. This truly was the man she had married all along.

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Ron sat on one of the hospital beds in the Infirmary. He hadn't been fully attentive on the conversation that had been going on. He had been trying to understand why Harry would allow his cousin Dudley to hang out with him. Even more puzzling was why Lavender Brown was always sitting with Dudley. And while he couldn't make sense of it all, there was one thing he knew for sure, and that was that he didn't like it.

Harry, Hermione and Dudley had all broken out in laughs as Lavender continued her tale. "So Myrtle had decided that enough was enough and made her move before he could get away again. She wrapped herself around him and began to give him the snog of his life whether he wanted it or not!"

Harry had to keep Hermione from falling off their cot as she was laughing so hard.

"Oh, I wish I could have seen that!" Hermione exclaimed once she could speak again.

"You can see it!" beamed Lavender. "It happened right outside the Great Hall, and Harry's favorite photographer, Collin, was there, and took several shots! He made sure to get out of there fast once Snape arrived on the scene."

Harry leaned into Hermione. "Moaning Myrtle lip-locked with Draco Malfoy! I don't know whether to just be amused or grossed out!"

Now they had Ron's attention. "Wait! What now with Malfoy?"

"Weren't you listening, Ron?" Harry inquired, genuinely surprised. "Myrtle made a play for Malfoy, tried to show her affection by kissing him right near the Great Hall!"

"What? How could… Oh, yeah, she's got that Myrtle suit so she can actually touch things now." Then the redhead blinked as realization settled in. A moment later he fell off the hospital bed laughing.

"I think he gets it now," Dudley remarked with a chuckle. Dudley had been surprised at how well he was getting on with his cousin. He knew that the rods that his mother had been able to remove from him had been causing some type of negative effect in his personality, but he hadn't been expecting Harry to be so forgiving. At least not so quickly.

_Some people are better than others give them credit for_, remarked the Sorting Hat that had been firmly planted on Dudley's head for the last several days. Then out loud, the Sorting Hat said, "I'll have to see if the Gray Lady will be willing to have a talk with Myrtle. I think Luna might be encouraging our young ghost too live it up more than she can."

"I think Myrtle is just trying to enjoy some of the things she has been missing since she died. Being able to touch things again after so many years must be overwhelming."

"I'm just glad she's stopped trying to eat during meals." Ron eased himself back to where he'd been sitting, his shoulders still shaking from the fit of laughter.

Neville shuddered at remembering the ghost trying to empty her Myrtle suit of all the food she had tried to eat, hoping that she would be able to taste again. "At least she only sits at the table and have Luna describe each bite to her. That's not nearly as distracting."

The Hat tsked at them. "Imagine if you had been unable to feel anything, or taste, for decades; how might you feel if were suddenly able to at least touch things again, as well as to be able to interact on a much better level? Hmm? Might you not get carried away now and then?"

Neville looked embarrassed, but Ron frowned. "Hey, what's up with you always being on Dudley's head? I don't think I've seen you off his head since he was sorted."

"Ron!" Herminie barked, appalled at his statement.

"No, it's all right," said Dudley, though still obviously embarrassed. His eyes turned upward as if to see the hat that was on his head. "You can explain it to them."

The Sorting Hat grumbled for a moment, before doing as he had been bid. "This is not common knowledge, but to put it bluntly, when Dudley was a baby he suffered a head injury that left his brain with some damage that made it difficult to exceed in getting an education. I have been asked by the Heirs of Ravenclaw and Slytherin to use some of my abilities to stimulate healing in those areas to bring him closer to where he should have been all along."

"You can do that?" Neville asked in a small voice.

"Young man, you would be surprised at some of the odd abilities that I have. For instance, I had housed the Sword of Gryffindor within myself for centuries before it was withdrawn from me by your friend Harry in his second year."

"But-" Neville pulled himself up so that he could look at the Hat at a more eye-to-eye level. "But can you… repair… a more drastic brain injury?"

The enchanted rag hat seemed to study Neville who didn't balk at the intense observation he was under. "I believe I know why you are asking this. And as I have never done such a thing, nor have I even seen the damage of those you are thinking about, I really couldn't say."

"But would you be willing to at least try?" Neville burst out.

The Sorting Hat seemed to deflate. "I am never going to get next year's Sorting song done properly at this rate," the Hat grumbled.

"Who were you asking about?" Harry asked.

Neville shifted uneasily. "Uh, my-my parents. They w-were tortured with the Cruciatus curse for so long that-that they were driven insane."

Lavender immediately went over to give the awkward Gryffindor a consoling hug. As Hermione was still attached to Harry's back, she was only able to lean over and grasp his hand.

"Hat," Harry said. "If you need my permission as Heir of Slytherin to help Neville's parents, then consider it given."

"There's more to it than that, Lord Slytherin," stated the Hat. "True, we still need Dudley's mother's permission as the Heir of Ravenclaw, there is also the matter that I cannot leave the boundaries of Hogwarts."

"We could bring them here!" Neville called out.

"True, if you could get a physician at St. Mungo's to sign off on letting them leave. Even then, I still have no idea of the state of their brains and if I can do anything with them."

"But you can try, right?" Dudley asked. The Hat had told him his own healing would take a few weeks, but he was sure that his thinking was clearer already. His attention span had definitely increased, or maybe that was just because he was focusing so much of it on Lavender. As it was he was looking forward to the day he would never have to wear that particular hat ever again. Mostly due to the Sorting Hat tending to make rude remarks will Dudley was snogging with Lavender.

"Very well. After I finish with your so-called brain, I will be willing to have a look at Neville's parents.

The teens broke out into cheers even as Neville let out sobs of gratitude.

This was the state of things when Seamus tore into the Infirmary.

"Ron! Harry! You gotta come quick!" he shouted, pausing to take in deep breaths.

Madam Pomfrey was coming out of her office to see what all the noise was about, when Dean ran inside, too, but could only fall down into a cot as he caught his breath.

"It's Charlie!" Seamus finally said.

"My brother?" Ron's eyes widened. "They were moving the dragons out today!"

Seamus nodded until he found his voice again. "The Horntail's got him!"

"How bad is he hurt?" Pomfrey immediately inquired as she summoned her medical bag from her office.

"Uh, he isn't," Seamus managed to say. "That is, he wasn't when I last saw him. The dragon somehow got him close enough that she… well, she's holding his arm in her mouth."

They all stared at each other for a moment before they rushed to the door to head out to where the dragon pens were being kept in the Forbidden Forest.

**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_A bit of a downer with the Vernon and Petunia segment but I felt a little building of the characters was in order. Also, Vernon is the same bastard that everyone thought he was, so no personality change for him. Also my daughters have requested that I work a way for Marge to come to Hogwarts. What are your thoughts? _

_Yes, I left this chapter as a cliffhanger. The reason is partially because I wanted to get it out to be read, and also because the part with Petunia and Vernon was mostly a downer._

_Until next time!_

_R &amp; R, please!_


	13. Chapter 13

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

By Ordinaryguy2

**Chapter 13**

The group of teens raced from the hospital wing of Hogwarts toward the section of the Forbidden Forest that they knew that the dragons used for the First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament were being kept in pens.

Along the way, their rapidly traveling group drew the attention of some of the other students that had been enjoying the Hogwarts grounds on this sunny Saturday. Small streams of students began to trickle after them, though several either stayed where they were or ran back to the castle once they realized that the section of the Forbidden Forest people were heading to was where the penned dragons were.

Somewhere along the way, as Harry and Hermione were running side by side, Hermione tripped and twisted her ankle, almost pulling Harry down onto the grassy ground. Harry, knowing time wasted could cost Charlie his life, promptly picked her up and asked Lavender to hit both Hermione and him with a lightening charm so that he could run easier. Hermione, despite having a sharp pain in her ankle, couldn't help but find the moment of being carried away romantic, decided to just enjoy the time she was being carried by the boy in which she was interested.

Even with Hermione in his arms, he managed to run ahead of the others, though not by much. As they cleared the trees between them and their goal, they could see several dragon handlers and Hagrid trying to get close enough to somehow rescue Charlie. The dragon loving Weasley could be seen sprawled out next to the bars of the cage and the reclining dragon's maw with almost his entire right arm trapped between her teeth.

"Charlie!" Ron's outburst caught the attention of several nearby people, including the just arrived headmaster.

As two dragon handlers moved to intercept the arriving students, Dumbledore moved to intercede.

"Let me through!" Harry said to a large, barrel-chested man baring his way. "I think I can talk her into letting go!"

"Kid, a dragon never gives up what it captures! He ain't gettin' out of that intact, so's you and your friends need ta get outta here so's we can save what we can of 'im."

Before Harry could insist any further, Dumbledore arrived.

"Ah, Harry, my boy! It's good that you are here! I was thinking that perhaps you could ask the Hungarian Horntail to release Mr. Weasley before anything drastic happens?"

Harry frowned, "That's what I was trying to do when this blockhead-"

Hermione's elbow caught him lightly in the ribs, just enough to remind him that he could always argue about things later after seeing to Charlie's release. Dumbledore and Hermione quickly eased him around the dragon handler who decided to instead try and stop Ron and the others.

"What can you tell us, headmaster?" Harry asked.

"Just that the dragon somehow got a hold of Ronald's brother." As they stepped forward, the dragon's tail slipped past the bars of her cage, and slammed into Hagrid's chest, sending the half-Giant flying backwards into several trees that were suddenly reduced to kindling. "Although," continued Dumbledore, "I do suspect that the tail of the dragon might have been involved in the cause of Charlie Weasley's predicament."

"I can see that now," Harry said, watching as his friend Hagrid slowly got up with a loud, painful groan.

Hermione bit her lip nervously. "Do you think she will listen to Harry? She seems extremely angry."

The dragon let a small flare of flames shoot out of her nostrils while everyone could see Charlie was gasping in pain at being trapped so close to the heat.

Dumbledore sighed. "I think that Harry is Charlie's only hope of surviving this."

"So no pressure then," Harry said sulkily. His eyes turned from Charlie to Hagrid, who was now removing massive splinters and chunks of bark that had somehow gotten tangled up in his beard. A glance at Ron, who was still being held back by the large dragon handler, showed that he was terrified that he would be losing one of his older brothers, a look that was soon to be mirrored by the twins, George and Fred, who flew in on their brooms. Oddly enough, it was his cousin, Dudley, who seemed to have the most faith in Harry, and gave him a shaky, half-hearted nod of assurance, while the Sorting Hat on his head looked at everything as if he were a kid at a circus, as it was rare that it got outside anymore.

"Headmaster, I should get closer to talk with her, so I'm going to need you to separate Hermione from my back."

"Harry, I-" Hermione began, only to be cut off by her dark-haired friend.

"No, Hermione. I don't want to risk you," he said quietly. "Besides, I may have to try turn into that basilisk-phoenix hybrid form again, hopefully only as last resort, but I don't know what that would do to you if you were attached to me at the time."

"Regardless of your two points," interceded their headmaster, "there is a problem you have not considered."

"And what's that?"

"Simply that the Unspeakable that was to come tonight to detach Miss Granger's hand from your back did not explain to Madame Pomfrey or I what the process to do that was."

Hermione stood slightly stunned over the fact that such things had not been set up in case of some unpredictable situation arose. "Surely you could just try a strong _finite_ spell."

Madame Pomfrey, having set aside the broom that she had flown over aside, now edged over to them even as she cast a calculating eye over Charlie Weasley's unusual predicament and gaged the immediate treatments she would have to do once she got him into one of her hospital beds. "Such a spell could be disastrous," she stated coolly. "You yourself proved to be the only thing that Harry's magic was willing to accept to hold in his magic after his magical core was breached. And while we hope that his core has healed over the days your magically enlarged hand has been stuck over his back to patch it up, we don't know for certain that it has healed. That is why we must wait for the Unspeakables to undo it. Hopefully, there would be no more leakage, and the signs are good for that being the case; however, if we are wrong, and separate you two, it could render Harry a squib if he was lucky, otherwise Harry would die. The Unspeakables may have come up with alternative, but we won't know until they arrive tonight."

"We should risk it," Harry said after glancing at Charlie again.

"Not on your life!" Hermione shouted, slapping him on the shoulder, surprising Harry. "We do this together or not at all, you hear me?"

Harry looked to Dumbledore for help in convincing Hermione to his way of thinking when he noticed that the headmaster seemed flummoxed as well at her stubborn stand. It was almost as if he was suddenly seeing the Fourth year student for the first time and wasn't sure what to do with her. Madame Pomfrey, being an expert physician, noted Hermione standing funny, after a quick diagnosis spell, she was able to heal Hermione's ankle and remove most of the pain.

"Harry!"

Harry looked back to see that Ginny had now joined her brothers in waiting the nerve wracking outcome of Charlie's situation.

"Help Charlie!" Ginny cried out, her face already wet with tears.

A peek back over at Hermione let him know that she was not about to change her stance on the matter.

"Fine," he finally relented.

"I shall go with you to talk to the dragon," Dumbledore stated.

Harry shook his head. "Absolutely not! The dragon already knows that you are one of those in charge of the tournament. A tournament that put her eggs at risk! Having you going up to talk to her could get Charlie dead, and possible the rest of us tore up and fried, too. And I, for one, do not want to end the day as a dragon's barbeque dinner."

The old wizard frowned. "And how would she know about my part in arranging the tournament?"

Harry let out a weak chuckle. "I may have given some indication to that fact during the First Task when I was talking with her."

Dumbledore seemed to deflate for a moment. "A pity. I had always wished to communicate with a dragon." He let out a heavy sigh. "Very well then. I'll leave the matter up to you." Keeping an eye on the dragon, Dumbledore wandered over to where Hagrid was leaning against a mighty oak tree while holding his ribs together with his arms.

"Oh dear, Hagrid's going to need five, possibly six, liters of Skele-Gro potion if I'm any judge of how he's holding his ribs," tutted Madame Pomfrey. "His natural resistance to magic can be so frustrating at times like these when a cup of Skele-Gro potion would have fixed him right up."

"Broken ribs?" Hermione asked.

"Definitely," remarked Harry.

"How do you know?" Hermione looked at him with a frown.

"I just do," he said defensively, not wanting to go into details of some of the darker times when living with the Dursleys. "Now are you sure you are up to this?"

She wanted to pursue that matter of the broken ribs, though she realized she was most likely becoming too nosey. Not a good perspective for someone who hoped to be Harry's girlfriend. Harry had always deflected talking about his home life, a fact that made her all the more worried every time he would clam up about it. Now with the Dursleys here at Hogwarts, she had had a front row seat to the many reveals of Harry's life. Quite a bit of it had been dark, and she had struggled to not show Harry pity; as frustrating as it was, she knew that pitying him would just make him try to walk away from her and everyone else. No, she had to try and just care for him as her friend. To just be with him. A part of her was glad that her hand had been stuck to his back for the past several days, forcing them to just face things. If anything it had helped their friendship to grow even stronger, and possibly even moving up to a more romantic level. "Yes," she simply answered.

Dumbledore held out an old, worn sock for Harry to take. "A portkey to the entrance of the Infirmary, just in case things… don't turn out as you hope."

She looked up at him. "How do we make it work?"

"Due to the immediacy of needing to use it, I set it so that as soon as your or Harry's wand touches it, you will be taken away. Hopefully before any damage is done to you."

"Will it work if we get a hold on Charlie?" Hermione looked at him hopefully.

Dumbledore's heavy sigh set the mood for the letdown. "I'm afraid any such attempt to portkey Mr. Weasley out of danger's way could only be accomplished if the dragon were no longer in contact with Mr. Weasley. Otherwise…" He left off finishing that sentence. Instead, he looked over at the dragon who had used her tail to ward off the dragon handlers that were coming up behind her. Her tail tore through the ground, showering those behind her with earth and bits of rock as shrapnel, reminding the dragon handlers why it was best to never come up behind this particular species of dragon. "Best to do what you can before someone else here tries to be a hero."

Harry gave Hermione a brave smile. She returned it, even as she kept her wand near the portkey sock he held so that it almost touched.

"If that dragon sends so much as a spark in our direction, I'm getting us out of here, Harry."

"Right," he quietly agreed.

Harry stepped forward with Hermione at his side. It was as if a silent signal had been given, all of the dragon handlers fell back.

The Horntail opened her mouth enough that Charlie could extract his bleeding arm, but the claws of a forelimb moved past the bars of the cage, gently encompassed him so that he couldn't escape. ~_Finally you arrive, little wizard! This one's flesh bleeding into my mouth was making it more and more difficult not to eat him._~

Harry couldn't believe his ears. ~_This was a ruse to get me here? You weren't about to tear Charlie limb from limb and eat him?_~

The dragon gave a coughing laugh.~_As tempting as eating you friend is, I'm still rather full of cow and sheep at the moment. Wish they would think to bring us some deer, goats, or fish now and then. Or a thestral. I know I smell thestrals in this forest, and I haven't had one to eat in at least a decade. But I digress._~ She tilted her head to one side so that one large eye was staring directly at him.~_Tell me, little wizard, why haven't I seen anything of you since the day you fell after you resumed your true shape?_~

Harry gave a sheepish grin. ~_Uh, sorry. I guess there was no one able to explain to you what happened. You see, the core to my magic breached. I'm only alive because Hermione_~ He nods to the girl holding tight to him. ~_was able to seal my core. Actually she still is doing so with her hand covering my back_.~

The dragon's head arched upwards due to her long neck. Tilting her head to the side, she sniffed deeply, the breeze pulled at Hermione's hair despite her being over fifteen feet away. ~_Ah, you are fortunate to have found your mate while still young._~

The teen found himself completely flummoxed, and blushed. ~_Uh, we just started going out. Well, our first date was supposed to be this weekend, but I've been stuck in the Infirmary, so hopefully we can go out next weekend and that will be our first date_.~

The dragon's eyes were filled with mirth. ~_Ah, this date, it is a pre-mating ritual, yes?_~

He was now blushing profusely; he snuck a peek at Hermione who was also blushing for some reason. ~_No! I mean we aren't ready for anything like that! Human relationships are… complicated! It's difficult to explain, and sometime more than I can even understand._~

The dragon seemed to think about that as she blew several smoke rings in to the air before responding. ~_I have watched several of the Human servers vie for the affections of another over a period of several months. It was most confusing and hard to understand. I am not even sure the ones I watched understood what they were doing half the time either. But I can see that you hope that this one attached to you will be your true mate someday_.~

Harry stole another glance at Hermione who was looking down, biting her lower lip. ~_Well, yes. I mean she is awesome, and I would like to think that we could_-~

~_Harry?_~

~_Yes?_~ he responded, surprised that Hermione would interrupt when he was talking to an actual dragon.

Hermione could only glance at him, seeming now to be embarrassed by something. ~_I don't know this is happening, but I can understand everything that you and the dragon are saying to each other_.~

~_Another Speaker!_~ the dragon roared excitedly, causing all the dragon handlers and Hogwarts students to fall back, Dudley jumping back into Neville who fell and knocked over Ron.

~_I'm speaking Parseltongue?_~ Hermione exclaimed, ignoring Ron's outburst in the background.

~_My magic must be doing it, or maybe it's that you are still connected to me._~

~_Or my magic learned to mimic the ability to do Parseltongue from your magic_,~ Hermione concluded. ~_I wonder what tests would have to be devised to test these theories?_~

Harry looked over his shoulder and could see that some of the Hogwarts students had definitely heard Hermione speaking the language of the serpents. ~_I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean for you to get caught up in the stigma that the Wizarding world has against those who speak Parseltongue_.~

Meanwhile the dragon had resumed her coughing laugh. ~_Ah, little wizard, you did find a good mate to stand by your side!_~

Both of the teens were even more embarrassed. Harry was about to try to explain to the dragon that he and Hermione were just friends when Hermione caught his attention and shook her head no so that he wouldn't argue the point any further.

Charlie had been trying to be quiet and patient as Harry and now, surprisingly, Hermione, communicated with the dragon. But, even so, he still couldn't stop a moan of pain from leaving his lips now and then.

Harry cast a guilty look at Ron's brother. ~_So, now that we are talking, do you think you could let Charlie go? There is a healer waiting to give him aid_.~

~_I dare not_,~ stated the dragon. ~_Not until you have heard me out_.~

~_What do you mean?_~ Harry shared a worried look with Hermione.

~_Someone has been stealing the eggs from the clutches!_~ the dragon growled intimidatingly, smoke streaming upwards from her nostrils. ~_The other dragons have lost two to three eggs each already._~

With over a fifteen hundred feet separating the cages, Harry could make out the other dragon pens through blacked burnt tree trunks. The Chinese Fireball seemed morose as she sat firmly over her remaining eggs. Harry remembered that that particular dragon had been Krum's task. Krum had blinded the dragon painfully, so much so that she accidently stomped on half her eggs. The Welsh Green dragon also seemed mopey as it laid protectively over her remaining clutch of eggs. The Swedish Short-Snout was not in view from where they were standing.

_~I have been diligently sitting on my eggs, and in no less than five times I have felt someone trying to summon one of my eggs away from me_. _One was finally taken from me when I stretched my limbs._~ Her body shuddered in rage. So much so that Charlie looked like he thought this was it; that he was going to die.

Harry was about to ask if she was sure that someone was stealing eggs, but realized that could have brought another angry response, which was definitely one of the things he wanted to avoid. He had come across a black market dragon egg before so he knew that it was possible to obtain one. It was stupid, but possible. Harry didn't think that Hagrid would steal one, though, no matter how much he would love to raise one. Taking in a dragon egg as part of a wager was one thing; stealing one away from it's mother was quite another. Also, dragon eggs, as rare as they are, can be used to for potions. Very rare potions at that. But as much as Harry would love to point a finger in Snape's direction, that didn't necessarily make him the culprit. Anyone wanting to make some fast big money could be behind it; that included everyone from the dragon handlers to the students and teachers at Hogwarts.

~_We will certainly make everyone know what is going on_,~ Harry stated reassuringly. ~_We will do everything we can to find your eggs for you_.~

~_Definitely_,~ Hermione agreed. ~_Did you get a look at the person or persons responsible? Do you have any idea why they would take dragon eggs from their clutches? Is there someone you suspect?_~

At that, the dragon's eyes were downcast. ~_Being trapped within these containers, I haven't been able to investigate. To make it worse, the Human servers have been bringing other Humans to stare at us, a most aggravating situation_.~

Hermione gasped. ~_I just remembered one of the books I read about dragons commenting that nesting dragons cannot stand having anyone within sight of their eggs! Oh, I can't imagine how infuriating that whole thing of having all those people staring down at you during the First Task must have been for you!_~

~_If I could have attacked those watching I would have, but I could sense magic barriers protecting them, thus the little wizard was the only one I could vent my frustrations and anger upon_.~ Her clawed paw over Charlie clenched around him, making Charlie cry out in fear.

~_Please, don't hurt him!_~ Hermione begged. ~_I believe him to be a good person. His brother is a friend of ours. He has stated many times how Charlie loves working with dragons_.~

The dragon's head dipped down so that she was almost eye to eye with a nearly petrified Charlie Weasley. ~_Oh, I never planned to kill this one. He was just to get the little wizard's attention so we could speak._~

~_Can I speak with Charlie?_~ Harry asked. ~_He might know something about the stolen eggs_.~

The dragon seemed to hesitate before finally nodding. ~_Know this, little wizard. I will not abide tricks. Your Charlie stays with me until the eggs are returned_.~

Harry nodded in understand before he and Hermione slowly moved forward so that they could talk to Charlie. Several people in the crowd behind them cried out when they saw the two of them walking closer to the dragon, but they were unable to do anything about it.

"Charlie?" Harry stopped them roughly six feet from where Charlie was being held under the Hungarian Horntail's fore-claw.

Charlie looked up at the two of them, slightly shivering. Harry could only wonder if the shivering was due to fear or shock. Perhaps both. "You-you're Harry Potter."

"Um, yeah, and this lovely witch is Hermione Granger."

Charlie, even under the circumstances, managed a polite nod. "Ron mentioned her. She's his girlfriend."

"What?" Hermione abruptly yelled out, instantly incensed.

It made more sense to Harry. Ron, being the youngest male Weasley in the family, had made the mistake of bragging to his out of the country brothers, Charlie and probably Bill, that he had managed to attract the heart of a girl. And since Hermione was the girl he was mostly around, it could easily be assumed that they were in a relationship to anyone who didn't know them very well. Harry couldn't believe that Ron actually wanted to be in a relationship with Hermione, their constant fighting with one another would make for short term dating that would not be kind to look back on.

"I think Ron got a few of his facts messed up," Harry hastily explained. "But we don't have time to talk about that now." He gave Hermione a brief, stern look. "What we need to know is what can you tell us about someone stealing the dragon eggs?"

Charlie blinked, confusion clearly marking his face. "Nobody is supposed to take the eggs yet. That wasn't supposed to happen until later."

**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_I know I didn't answer many questions with this posting, but the next part was getting rather long and I wasn't finished with it yet so I sent this section to wet everyone's appetite for the big surprises in the next chapter. Hopefully I can post it in the next few days. But with company coming over to spend the weekend together… I'll do my best._


	14. Chapter 14

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

By Ordinaryguy2

**Chapter 14**

Harry and Hermione shared a concerned glances, each hoping that they had heard Charlie Weasley wrong, even while knowing they hadn't.

It was Hermione that chose to be the one to press ahead. "Why were the dragon eggs going to be taken from their mothers?"

Charlie looked like he had just tasted something disgusting. "That damn Malfoy," he spat.

In that moment, Harry couldn't imagine a stronger familial resemblance that Charlie could have to his father. "What does this have to do with the Malfoys, Charlie?"

"In a way, you're partially to fault, too," Charlie blurted out, though not with the venom he used when mentioning Malfoy's name.

Harry and Hermione shared a confused look. "What do you mean? Explain yourself, please." He wasn't angry, even if Charlie had lumped him together with the Malfoys. But he did need him to explain it to him.

"All that damage done to Hogwarts during your tussle with the Horntail," Charlie explained. "A lot of repairs are underway. The Dwarves working on Ravenclaw tower and the castle walls need to be paid for. Construction supplies need to be bought. All in all, it's a very expensive project."

"What are you getting at, Charlie?" Hermione asked, not liking where it was all going. Anything associated with the Malfoys was sure to be atrocious.

"Lucius Malfoy is on the school's board of governors. He's also one of those in charge of Hogwart's purse strings."

"Oh, that can't be a good thing," Harry muttered, anger already building within him.

"Malfoy stated that since one of the dragons caused the mess, that they should be the ones to pay for the damages."

Hermione frowned. "How are the dragons supposed to pay for…" She gasped in horror. "They are going to use the eggs to pay for the damages!"

"They can't do that!" Harry burst out, magic beginning to build up visibly around him and Hermione.

"That's not what they are doing!" Charlie shouted, even as the claws of the dragon tightened around him.

"But you just said-"

"Calm down!" Charlie said, now more calmly and alert than before. "You're spooking her!"

The dragon was indeed becoming agitated with Harry and Hermione's reactions. Smoke was now billowing out of her nostrils with the promise of vast amounts of flame forthcoming. Her eyes darting out among the nervous crowd as if seeking a target to take her frustration out on.

~_Hey! Stop it! You're going to hurt him! And he hasn't finished telling us what he knows!_~ Harry shouted to the dragon.

~_What has he said about my egg?_~ she roared. In her anger, her claw curled inwards causing Charlie to cry out in pain.

~_Harry and I jumped to the wrong conclusion! Charlie was just explaining it to us when you started roaring! If we are going to be able to find your egg, then we need Charlie in one piece so we can talk to him! Please, stop hurting him!_~

It was as if a storm had suddenly gone quiet in the forest, the only sound was the sobbing of Ginny and a few other kids that were still watching from a distance.

~_Very well_,~ growled the exasperated dragon. ~_But I want to know soon!_~

"Charlie! Charlie!" shouted Harry, as he struggled to keep himself and Hermione from going to him. "Are you still with us, man?"

"Unfortunately," Charlie said in a low groan, as he tried to adjust the position he was trapped in within the grasp of the dragon's horrible claws. "Merlin, this dragon has the same temper as my mother."

Hermione couldn't help breaking out in laughter at the comparison between the explosive Weasley matron and the perturbed nesting dragon.

Ironically, it was Harry who was being the more leveled one at the moment. "Charlie, what did you mean by the dragons paying for it if it has nothing to do with their eggs being taken?"

The Weasley dragon handler coughed, spitting out some blood, which alarmed both Harry and Hermione. "The eggs were only supposed to be taken later. After the dragons were moved."

"What are they trying to do to the eggs?" Harry insisted, wanting him to get to the point before the angry dragon decided to tear him apart.

Charlie shook his head. "The eggs were going to be fine. They'd be sent to special hatcheries near others of their kind, and hopefully get adopted by another mothering dragon. Why someone is taking them early, I have no clue, unless it's Malfoy trying to appropriate some before the final count is done."

"Why would the eggs be in hatcheries? Their mothers should be able to take care of them."

Charlie spat again. "It's the only concession the dragon preserves could get from Malfoy, the bloody git! Merlin, I hate that man!"

Hermione drew in a breath in alarm and eyes wide, her eyes darting from Charlie to the dragon and back again. "He wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't what?" Harry asked, knowing he'd missed something important. What Harry knew of Malfoy, whatever he had done, if compared to him giving Ginny a cursed diary with a part of the Dark Lord's memory or soul attached, it couldn't be good.

"Lucius Malfoy," Charlie then followed up with several words in a language that Harry didn't know, but due to the reddening of Hermione's cheeks, she probably did. The dragon handler huffed again before continuing, totally ignoring his dire predicament of being encompassed by the claws of a living, angry dragon. "Through his position of being on the Hogwarts school board and a high functioning member of the Wizengamot, he managed to get it set up that the dragons that had been borrowed from the dragon reserves would be rendered down to be sold to pay for the expenses of repairing the castle. The slimy snake has probably already set up several ways to funnel a sizable portion of the proceeds into his own vaults." Charlie shuddered again as he hung his head downwards, though whether it was from the shock of his injuries or if he was silently crying, neither Harry nor Hermione could tell. They couldn't help but notice the Weasley dragon handler running his uninjured hand caressingly over one of the large claws that was pinning him down, thus confirming the belief that dragon handlers were as obsessed with dragons as Hagrid was to extremely dangerous creatures.

The thought of those dragons being slaughtered and cut up to bits for meat, armor or potion ingredients made Harry feel sick inside. Sure, the dragons were terrifying as they were deadly, especially if you get close to one, but they were magnificent and wondrous, too; a sight to behold. Also, it was the committee that set up the tournament that were responsible for the dragons being at Hogwarts, not the dragons themselves. If anyone should be rendered into potion ingredients, it should be the committee who set up the events of the Tournament. And perhaps Malfoy and Snape, too.

"Isn't there some way to stop this?" Harry heard Hermione ask, interrupting his thoughts.

Charlie's face took on another scowl. "Malfoy used all his power and authority to set this up before anyone could stop him. I don't even think Dumbledore could stop him. Not that I've noticed the headmaster trying to do anything about it."

Harry frowned. He was sure that Dumbledore could do something. He was one of the most powerful and influential people in the Wizarding world. He was also the headmaster of Hogwarts, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Who could be in more of a position to do something about this injustice if not him?

Looking back at the milling crowd of onlookers, he easily spotted the headmaster talking with a rather nervous Ludo Bagman. Snape had also made an appearance, and was making an effort to keep his Slytherin charges from getting too close to all the confusion of the students trying to get a better look at what was going on.

Draco Malfoy, with Crabbe and Goyle behind him, was talking to Harry's cousin, who seemed uncomfortable in his presence. The smirking Sorting Hat on Dudley's head was obviously making some harsh remarks to Draco if the look on the Slytherin's face was any indicator as to what was going on.

Harry's eyes were just moving towards where the twins were trying to comfort their sister, Ginny, when his eyes shot back to Dudley.

"Hey, Dudley!" he called. Then, once he had his attention, waved for him to come over to where he was.

Dudley's initial reaction was to go white as one of the Hogwarts' ghosts. It didn't help that Draco was laughing at Dudley's hesitation, and even pushed him towards where his cousin was standing directly in front of the Hungarian Horntail. When Draco called him a chicken, and gave him another big shove towards the dragon, Dudley automatically spun around and gave Draco a swift knuckle sandwich.

"Good one, Dud!" Harry called out. "But, hey, I need you over here for a moment. I need to talk with the Hat."

The Sorting Hat and Dudley exchanged a few words before Dudley gave in and reluctantly marched forward leaving Draco rolling on the ground, crying and trying to stem the blood pouring out of his nose. Both Crabbe and Goyle just stood there staring in surprise, and with maybe a hint of admiration.

Harry watched as his cousin came over in an almost fatalistic attitude, meanwhile, Hermione had a few quick words with the dragon about who Harry was having come over and stressing the point that Dudley was not a threat to her or her eggs.

"How are you enjoying the sightseeing?" Harry asked the Hat.

"It's definitely an improvement in comparison to the view from the shelf above the headmaster's desk." The animated cloth hat took the opportunity to examine the dragon from this much closer proximity while Harry and Hermione explained to the Hat and Dudley about the stolen eggs as well as the plans to butcher the dragons to pay for the repairs to the school.

"Hmm, definitely quite a problem," admitted the Hat.

"So what should we do?" inquired Harry.

"What? You expect me to solve all your problems for you? I'm not that type of thinking cap, Lord Slytherin. In fact, as I have named you Lord Slytherin, this is something that is more in line with the type of things in which you should be dealing."

"Me? But-" He stopped when Hermione pressed a hand against his chest.

"Perhaps, we are looking at this all wrong." She looked back over in the direction of Hogwarts just as Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum were arriving at the clearing with several more students. "Maybe if the four champions of the Tri-Wizard Tournament were to express negative views about what Malfoy is trying to do, it would force those with Malfoy to alter their plans and raise the money a different way."

"You obviously don't have much experience with Lucius Malfoy," Charlie declared, his emotions getting him more and more worked up the more he thought about the whole situation. "He'd push ahead even faster than before just to get it done before anyone can stop him. In case you haven't noticed, he's already had people collect the Swedish Short-Snout for processing."

Hermione gasped while Harry's eyes scanned the edges of the clearing. He'd been able to spot the other two dragons when he got here and had just assumed that the Short-Snout was just further back in the trees. He held onto Hermione as she curled into his shoulder and cried.

"So if I was to somehow give the dragons, I don't know, sanctuary, would that-"

Charlie shook his head. "You really think that would stop Malfoy. There's no place in Hogwarts that he couldn't get to them."

"Wait." Hermione raised her head and wiped away some of her tears before turning to the others. "Charlie, don't dragons typically nest in dark, secluded caves?"

The dragon handler frowned as he tried to understand where she was going with this line of questions. "Mostly," he answered. "These breeds do at least."

Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes again with her sleeve. "So if there was a large, underground cavern with its own water system, that no one other than Harry could get to…"

"The Chamber of Secrets!" Harry exclaimed excitedly, picking up Hermione and giving her a twirl before suddenly remembering himself and where he was. Blushing, he gently let Hermione down, though he did note the embarrassed smile she wore.

"A Chamber of what?" Dudley asked with a confused look on his face.

"I'll explain later," replied Harry.

"Wait," Charlie spoke, looking at them from where he still laid trapped. "You actually know where the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"Yeah, found it two years ago," Harry answered. "Ron didn't tell you about it?"

"Well, to be honest, I thought he was making most of it up," Charlie admitted. "He's kind of known in the family for doing that kind of thing."

Harry and Hermione shared a knowing look. Ron's problems with self-confidence has led him to exaggerate his stories from time to time, sometimes to the extent of getting him into trouble for doing it. Unfortunately, he hasn't learned not to do it yet, which was mostly annoying to them.

"But how can we get the dragons into the Chamber of Secrets when the entrance is in Myrtle's bathroom?" he asked.

"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in a girls' loo?" Charlie broke out in laughter. "I spent most of third and fourth year searching for clues as to where the entrance might be, and the closest I ever came was when I ducked into that particular bathroom one late night when I was trying to not get caught by Filch!"

"But you gave up after your fourth year, why?"

"That's when I discovered girls!" he laughed. "That and I was on the quidditch team, and I'm telling you that our practice schedule Bill put together was insane!" Harry joined him in laughing as he could more than relate due to the schedules Oliver Wood created.

"How-how can you be laughing?" came a quiet voice out of Dudley. "That-that-that dragon has you in it's claws. It could kill you… kill you and eat you and you're just talking and… and laughing."

Charlie adjusted himself, careful of his injured arm. "I've been working with dragons for a couple years now. Ending up in positions like this is just one of the hazards of the job," he responded with a half-hearted smile. "Oh, and she's a '_she_', not an '_it_'." As if emphasizing the dragon handler's point, the dragon sent out a large smoke ring directly at Dudley.

The Sorting Hat gave out a chuckle. "I think she likes you, Dudley. Either that or she thinks you'd make a good dessert!"

"N-not funny," Dudley muttered, even as he made sure to keep his cousin between him and the dragon at all times.

Hermione, meanwhile, had been thinking over a few things. "Charlie, how were the dragons brought here? By portkey?"

"Good guess, but no," he answered. "Dragons don't react well to traveling by portkey, even when they are unconscious. No, we had to hire the services of a large number of house-elves to transport them. In a large enough group, the house-elves working in unison can move the entire mass of the dragon and her eggs without disturbing them at all."

Harry turned his attention back to the Hat. "Can the house-elves of Hogwarts transport the remaining dragons here down into the Chamber of Secrets?"

The Hat seemed to make a face that may have meant to be interpreted as a shrug. "Ask them yourself. You are one of the owners of the castle after all; they all work for you now."

Harry frowned. The Hat was evidently wanting him to work out this answer. "I need a Hogwarts house-elf here, please."

There were two simultaneous pops as two house-elves appeared in front of him.

"Yes, Lord Slytherin?"

"Yes, Master Harry Potter sir?"

"Dobby?" Harry wasn't sure why he was surprised at this point any more.

"Dobby be serving Master Harry Potter," Dobby growled to the other house-elf in a territorial manner.

"Bristy be answering to Lord Slytherin's call for a house-elf. Lord Slytherin be needing the help of a trustworthy house-elf."

"Actually I'm going to need a lot of house-elves," Harry interjected before the two house-elves could argue any further. "Are you able to go down into the Chamber of Secrets now that it's been found?"

Dobby hesitated, but Bristy, a flour covered kitchen worker, nodded happily. "Hogwarts house-elves can be getting to any places that you has been."

"Right, then. I think that this might work."

He explained what he wanted them to do, then had to reassure the house-elves that the dragons would not attack them while being transported. Hermione, meanwhile, was filling in the dragon as to what Harry was arranging with the house-elves.

The Horntail mulled over the detail of this plan for a few moments before roaring to the other two mothering dragons what was going on. Not that anyone other than Harry, Hermione and Charlie knew that. Dudley on the other hand… fainted.

"Oh, now that was not very responsible," grumbled the Sorting Hat from where it lay partially crushed on Dudley's head. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to hold my shape at the age I'm in? This is going to seriously damage my back rim."

After several loud growls and roars, during which everyone watching began backing up further and further, the dragons reached an accord.

~_We are agreed_,~ the Horntail acknowledged with a toothy grin that surprised Harry. ~_The little magic servers will take us to this large cavern you talk of where we can mind our eggs in peace. You will also keep searching for my egg, as well as the stolen eggs of the other dragons_.~

Harry grinned back at the dragon. ~_Sounds like a plan_.~

~_I don't know what kind of sound it is_,~ argued Hermione. ~_But right now it seems like the only chance we have_.~

Harry groaned at her bad pun. ~_Make sure that the house-elves –or little magic servers as you call them– are not to be attacked, okay?_~ Harry stated. Knowing how excitable the house-elves could be, they could easily cause one of the mothering dragons to attack them suddenly.

The Horntail issued another roaring instruction to the other two dragons.

"Bristy, proceed with the plan, please."

The flour-dusted house-elf nodded with a smile, and gave a snap with his fingers.

Over sixty house-elves preceded to pop into existence all over the Chinese Fireball, nearly covering the dragon completely. Then disappeared entirely with a loud crack, leaving only an empty cage, the nest having been taken along with the dragon.

The people watching in the background murmured with excitement. Having never seen house-elves before, several of the younger muggle-born students were being told about them by their friends.

The group of house-elves returned, this time covering the Common Welsh Green dragon, and taking her as well as her nesting clutch of eggs away with another resounding crack.

"Harry my boy."

Harry stiffened as soon as the words reached him. He knew that the dragons could not have been taken away for Lucius Malfoy's money making plan without being allowed to do so by the headmaster. One dragon had already been removed, much to Harry's disgust and anger.

He turned with Hermione at his side to see Dumbledore approaching from seventy feet away. "Headmaster. I wouldn't come any closer if I were you. I remember reading that the angrier a dragon is that the flame of a dragon will become hotter as it becomes infused with the inherit magic of the dragon making most magical defenses such as a magical shield fail quickly after the flame connects. Now do I have to remind you that this dragon sees you as a personal threat to her eggs?"

Dumbledore, for all of his want to be seen in the best light possible, decided to take the side of caution and stopped where he was. "Perhaps you could come over here so we can discuss these actions of yours?"

Harry shared a look with Hermione before raising his voice again. "I'm a little busy right now dealing with this situation. Perhaps we could meet tonight or tomorrow, yeah?"

Dumbledore blinked in surprise, the twinkle in his eyes dimming. "I really must insist that we confer about what you are doing before this goes any farther."

Now Harry broke out in a grin. "Naw, I got this, no worries. Why don't you go back to your office and have a lemon drop? Maybe take a nap."

Both Harry and Hermione could see the thunder struck looks of the students. No one dismissed Albus Dumbledore like that. Even Snape and McGonagall had a look of shock on their faces.

"Headmaster, I want those dragons returned immediately!"

Lucius stood tall and pompous, trying for an image of ultimate authority. Just off to his side, his wife, Narcissa, was watching as she had an annoyed Madam Pomfrey attending to Draco's bloody nose.

"I'm afraid we can't do that," Harry called out, loud and clear. "You see, as Lord Slytherin, I've given the dragons sanctuary."

At first there was silence among the watching crowd, but it was quickly replaced by cheering from all of the dragon handlers. Even Charlie let out a low cheer from where he still lay pinned down.

A sneer became the elder Malfoy's most prominent feature as he tapped his snake ornamented walking stick down roughly onto the ground. "I don't know what foolishness you are on about, boy, but plans to pay for all the damage that you and this beast caused have been made and will be followed."

Malfoy motioned to the side for someone to come forward. A hooded figure stomped forward with a large clear shield and a dark wand in his hand while a large ax was strapped to his back. Four unsavory men, obviously working with the man, followed after, slowly spreading out as they neared the caged dragon.

"Harry," Hermione tapped Harry shoulder urgently before whispering into his ear. "That's the man that came to kill Buckbeak last year! He's Walden Macnair, the Executioner that works for the Committee For The Disposal Of Dangerous Creatures! A very nasty individual, and among those that claimed to be under the Imperius curse during the last war!"

"Out of the way, brat!" Macnair flourished his wand forward, meaning to send Harry and the others flying off to the side. Instead, without meaning to, Harry wandlessly deflected the spell away into some nearby broken branches that spun awkwardly away to crash into some trees.

Harry was scowling back at the approaching Macnair, trying to figure out what to do, when a pop behind him reminded him that he actually had more help than he thought.

"Bristy. Dobby. Take these uncouth individuals to about five hundred feet above the Black Lake, please. And then let them go."

Bristy nodded politely while Dobby sported a rather wicked looking grin. Before Macnair or his underlings could do anything, they were all suddenly gone in a series of pops. In the distance, several abrupt screams traveled to them from the lake accompanied by splashes.

"How dare you interfere with Ministry business!"

"How dare you interfere with Hogwarts business!" Harry retorted back. "For that matter what do you think gives you the right to take dragons –that were only meant to be borrowed from the dragon reserves– and try to render them down to sell! How many people did you have to bribe and threaten to rush that ploy into play?"

"You dare?!" Lucius growled across the distance that separated them.

"Of course I dare! Besides, I can't stand braggarts," Harry pointed to Lucius. "Bullies," he pointed with his thumb over toward the Black Lake. "Or brats!" This last one he indicated Draco, who was staring in disbelief that anyone would dare to stand up to his father like that.

Lucius was red-faced with anger. "You will return those two dragons immediately or I will have the aurors arrest you for theft!"

"Not going to happen!"

"Unless you are planning to pay for the repairs for the castle yourself, you had better return those dragons immediately!"

Before Harry could give another retort, Hermione leaned over and whispered hurriedly in his ear.

He paused as he considered her idea. "But it's been a year and a half," Harry murmured back to her. "Would it really be able to cover the cost?"

More whispering soon answered those questions.

Harry laughed, as he looked back at a wary Lucius Malfoy. "Well, looks like we have the castle repair costs solved."

"What are you prattling on about, boy?" snarked Malfoy

Harry let his face become like ice. "That's '_Lord Slytherin_' to you." He looked down at the house-elf that was standing next to him. "Isn't that right, Dobby?"

Dobby happily nodded sending his ears flapping about. "Yes, Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir!"

"Where do you plan to come up with the galleons to pay for all this?" Malfoy hissed through clenched teeth, glaring at the insufferable boy along with his former-house-elf.

Hermione had been whispering as she conspired with Bristy, who nodded in agreement. "Bristy would have to get more house-elves to help."

"How many do you need? Are there enough house-elves at Hogwarts to do it?"

"Bristy thinks so, but Bristy also thinks Bristy will need help of all of the house-elves at Hogwarts."

"That would be fine, Bristy." She patted the house-elf on the shoulder. "How soon do you think you can have it done?"

The house-elf grinned, as he nodded, sending his long bat-like ears flapping around his head. "Bristy be back in a snap." And disappeared.

"And where do you plan to get this treasure trove of wealth, boy?" Lucius queried in a mocking manner

Harry gave a grin that the Cheshire Cat would have envied. "Well, it is a treasure of sorts that I came across mostly thanks to you, Lucy."

"What are you talking about?" Lucius fumed, wishing Macnair were still here to have his back. Somehow, the damnable Boy-Who-Lived had the damn Horntail listening to him, though he was puzzled why one of the Weasley boys was pinned down by the dragon. Even Dumbledore seemed unwilling to interfere in the matter, which surprised him and made him wary. What the hell was going on here? His son had written to him about Potter's claim to being the Heir of Slytherin, but thought Dumbledore could be trusted enough to deal with that bit of nonsense.

"Don't you remember? It all started with you slipping that evil possessing diary of Lord Voldemort's to Ginny Weasley in her first year."

Lucius began to sputter. "Nonsense! I did nothing of the sort!" He caught glances of those in the crowd who were listening to every word they said.

"Oh, but you did. Under possession, Ginny did the bidding of Heir of Slytherin –who was the entity in the diary for those of you not listening close enough– she loosed the beast of Slytherin to attack the students. What you may not have known is that Slytherin's beast was insane due to a thousand years of seclusion. Being able to speak Parseltongue, I could hear the rants of the creature, of how it wanted to kill and tear everyone apart. It didn't care about Blood status; it just wanted to kill everything. It was obsessed with the idea of murdering everyone it came across. Fortunately, Ginny was resistant to the cursed diary enough that she kept it from killing anyone, but only barely. Sooner or later, Slytherin's beast would have broken free anyway. And when it did, it would have been a massacre." Harry shook his head sadly while his audience tried to take in what he had just said. "I just can't believe you were willing to risk the life of your only child just for a chance to get some revenge on me for taking down your master, and Arthur Weasley for being a better man than you, Lucy."

Lucius was about to respond, but before he could, several hundred house-elves popped into the space between Harry and the Malfoys. The house-elves either disengaged themselves and stepped away from what they brought up from the Chamber of Secrets or simply popped away to resume whatever tasks in which they had originally been occupied.

Under all those house-elves was revealed in the light of day to be the very dead basilisk that Harry had killed in his second year at Hogwarts. The massive snake was just over sixty feet long. It's eyes were gone, revealing empty sockets thanks to Fawkes, the phoenix that had come to Harry's aid back in the Chamber of Secrets. If anyone were to look inside the beast's mouth they would note a small entrance wound in the roof of the mouth that went up into it's brain. They would also see that at least one of it's greater teeth were missing.

As they took in the sight of the fearsome creature, many of the students cried out and ran for the castle. Others just stood and stared. A few, such as Draco, wet themselves and even fainted.

"Looks pretty preserved," Harry remarked casually, "so it should still rake in a lot of money once it's rendered. And with basilisks so rare, a creature of this magnitude should bring in quite a lot."

Lucius could only stare in disbelief and amazement at the massive corpse, which is why he never saw the attack coming.

It has been said that Narcissa Malfoy's stinging hexes come to a close second to the Cruciatus curse. Her secret is overpowering the spell while having it specifically attack nerve clusters in the spine or groin. At this moment she struck her husband in both places. Having come from the Black family, forgiveness was not something exemplified often, revenge on the other hand, was second nature.

"That thing was running around the castle, and you still refused to let me bring our son home!" She sent another stinging hex straight at his buttocks that made him cry out like a stuck pig. "You stupid, stupid idiot of a man!"

Before she could hit him with another hex, Lucius had the good sense to use an emergency portkey and was no longer on the grounds. With the target of her righteous anger gone, Narcissa collapsed onto the ground next to her son. She carefully picked up Draco's head so that it could rest on her lap, while she continued to cry and run her fingers through his hair. Surprisingly, it was Myrtle the ghost in her multicolored Myrtle suit who came to sit down next to Mrs. Malfoy and offer her some comfort, while standing next to the ghost was dreamy eyed Luna Lovegood taking notes for the next edition of _The Quibbler_.

While everyone else gawked at the Malfoy drama or stared in disbelief at the dead basilisk, Hermione had a thought and quickly sent Bristy and Dobby off on another mission. They returned within a few moments looking sad and dejected.

"We's sorry, Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir's Hermie. The Short-Snouty is already being killed," Dobby said, wringing his ears.

Bristy nodded dejectedly. "Bristy and Dobby did bring back nest eggs of Short-Snouty dragon," nodding to the several large eggs behind them.

Harry had been taking in the sight of the basilisk, partially reliving his short -but adrenalin filled- struggle with the massive magic snake. He still couldn't believe he had survived it.

"Bloody hell, Harry!"

At first Harry thought it was Ron speaking to him, but no, Ron was still several hundred feet away on the other side of the dead basilisk. "Charlie?"

"You killed that thing when you were twelve?! How?"

Harry turned partially away in embarrassment. "I had help. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, blinded it. And the Sorting Hat proved me with the weapon I needed to kill it."

Charlie could only shake his head and stare. "What did the Sorting Hat give you? The Elder wand?"

"Not on your life," barked the Sorting Hat, still on the head of a just waking Dudley's head. "I provided him with Gryffindor's sword!"

"Bloody hell, Harry! Are you serious?"

"No, Sirius is his godfather," Hermione divulged before Harry could, earning her a cheeky grin.

"Sirius is a bad influence on both of us," Harry admitted.

"Wait, please tell me you are not talking about Sirius Black," Charlie asked in askance.

Dudley let out a groan as he sat up. "Why are you talking about Sirius Black? Is he here now, too?" He started to glance fearfully around for the mass murder, while trying to avoid looking at the dragon. "Wha-wha-what…!"

"It's okay, Dudley," Harry said with a smirk. "It's dead."

"It-it is?" Dudley managed to say, shaking as he looked at the basilisk.

"Trust me. I killed it almost two years ago."

Dudley had been taking a panoramic view of the dead basilisk in front of him. Then, before anyone knew what was happening, Dudley's eyes rolled up into his head and he passed out again.

"Oh, now this is ridiculous!" grumped the Sorting Hat. "Do you know how many centuries it has been since I've had to deal with grass stains? They are just so frustrating to get out, even with magic!"

Harry let the others have their chuckles. Remembering the pile of eggs behind him, now with no mother to raise them, Harry felt a pit of sadness in his heart. Hermione knelt down with him to inspect the eggs, making sure all were intact. "Dobby. Bristy. There were no other dragon eggs where you found these?"

Both house-elves shook their heads.

With a heavy heart, Harry looked up at the dragon, surprised to find that she was studying him. ~_Any chance any one of these are yours?_~ he asked.

She took in a deep sniff, causing several people to shy away, but didn't attack anyone. ~_These are all eggs of the dragon that had been removed earlier_. How do you come to have them now?~

His head hung low, he nodded. ~_Yeah, well, some bad people got a hold of her. They were planning to use her… and the rest of you… to pay for all the damage you and I did at the castle_.~

~_And this one?_~ Her claws clenched around Charlie in a deathlike grip leaving him unable to breath.

~_Is innocent!_~ Hermione cried out, terrified for Charlie who looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head. ~_In fact he and the other dragon workers were fighting against it, and had managed to get the bad one to allow them to save the eggs!~_

_~Then he was a part of the ones stealing eggs!~_

_~No, again!~ _Harry shouted, or at least tried to. ~_Someone got the eggs first! They were stolen before Charlie and the other dragon workers could keep them safe!_~

Her grip on Weasley eased off, allowing Charlie the chance to breathe again, even if it was painful. ~_How can I trust what you say, little wizard?_~

~_If I was going to lie to you, I would have picked a much more believable story to tell you_.~

She mulled that over. ~_And the dead basilisk?_~

~_I'm using the basilisk's body to pay for the castle to be restored. No dragon should have been hurt over this. And I will still find and return your eggs for you and the other dragons._~

She seemed to think about it. ~_And this is the basilisk that you fought? The one that bit you?_~

Uncharacteristically, Harry rolled up his right sleeve. There on his forearm was a large white scar. ~_The basilisk bit right through my arm_.~

She seemed to nod. ~_I do not feel as bad for not being able to defeat you, little wizard. Or perhaps I should call you 'mighty wizard' now?_~

Harry blushed, and Hermione shot him a grin. ~_Uh, how about just calling me Harry?_~

She gave a light coughing laugh. ~_Very well, Harry. I shall let this dragon server go, and you will find the eggs belonging to me and the others_.~

Hermione was gently running her hand over one of the dragon eggs of the Swedish Short-Snout. ~_The dragon handlers, the ones you call the dragon servers, they were going to hatch the eggs themselves and care for them.~_

She snorted in agitation. ~_It would be best if dragons raised them. I will take three of her eggs into my clutch. The green dragon down in the cavern will take three also. As for she who accidently stomped half her eggs, she will have the rest. Even if they were not laid by her, it will help her heal to raise them._~

Harry gave her a curt nod. ~_Then that is how it will be done_. _Now let's get you down into the Chamber of Secrets before some other fool Ministry worker tries to come and do something stupid._~

With some reluctance, the Hungarian Horntail released Charlie Weasley and was quickly taken down to the depths of the Chamber of Secrets. Dobby and Bristy were put in charge of distributing the eggs of the Swedish Short-Snout among the three dragons that would be occupying the underground holding.

Harry and Hermione immediately waved Madam Pomfrey over to examine and tend to Charlie's injuries. That left Harry and Hermione to fend off the other Weasleys as they tried to rush over to their older sibling.

Harry couldn't help give out a groan as Collin began taking pictures of everything, also noting that his young fan was making sure that Harry was at least in the background of most of the photographs he took. He let out another groan when he saw Dumbledore marching right over to him. And for the first time ever, he noted that the headmaster's eyes weren't twinkling,

**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Well, there is definitely more going on in this chapter than there was in chapter 13._

_I don't think there has ever been a fanfiction story where Harry provides the dragons sanctuary at Hogwarts, or even letting them into the Chamber of Secrets._

_I hope to have more surprises in the next chapter – like the identity of the person who had been stealing dragon eggs. And believe it or not – it wasn't Lucius Malfoy._


	15. Chapter 15

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

by Ordinaryguy2

**Chapter 15**

The headmaster trod, or more like stormed, around the massive frame of the dead body the Harry had had the house-elves bring up from the Chamber of Secrets. He had let the boy have too free a hand in things. True, Dumbledore had been using the time since Harry had been proclaimed Lord of Slytherin to reevaluate how best to regain control and the trust of the boy once more. He'd hoped, perhaps rather foolishly, that Harry would either ignore his new status, or at least feel it to be too overwhelming and, then turn to the headmaster for guidance.

But things are never that simple where Harry is involved. Somehow he was making amends with his cousin and aunt.

That should never have been possible.

And with Harry being in even closer contact with the muggle-born Hermione Granger due to her being able to somehow patch his magic core, romance had begun to bloom between them. Dumbledore was all for love when it comes to unattached people, of which Harry was not, even if he didn't know about the marriage contract Dumbledore had made for him as his magical guardian in order to secure a powerful ally. No, the Potter boy was going to have to have the reins of his life firmly plucked out of his hands yet again. It was for the greater good, after all.

"Harry, this has to stop!" he stated authoritatively. He had purposefully raised his tone so that at least some of the onlookers could see the headmaster bringing the boy to heel. Once seen as establishing himself as the true ruler at Hogwarts, it would be affirmed in the minds of everyone else there soon enough, and his role as leader of the Light would never be questioned again.

Harry's eyes, however, burned with a cold fire. "That is just what I did, headmaster. I put a stop to it. But it does bring a question to my mind: why didn't you stop this… travesty! This injustice! How could you just allow the dragons to be taken away to be slaughtered like that? You had the power to do something about this and you did nothing!"

Harry's harsh scolding tone had silenced nearly everyone around the dead basilisk. He had their attention now. Dumbledore now wished that all those eyes were not on them.

Gently clearing his throat, the headmaster of Hogwarts had the gears in his head running at top speed to try find the best way to come out on top in this instance. "Harry,-"

"Lord Slytherin," Hermione corrected Dumbledore.

Dumbledore paused, surprised at being corrected by one of his students, especially this particular student who normally revered teachers. "Surely we could set aside titles while discussion this matter, yes?"

The anger and hurt in her eyes let him know instantly that he wasn't going to make amends with her anytime soon. "No, headmaster. Titles are most important with any discussion you have with Lord Slytherin. Especially the discussion we are about to have today."

Harry nodded while trying to keep his face blank. "Just as Hermione said, headmaster."

The bearded older man grimaced. One of the last things he wanted to do was acknowledge Harry in his new role as the heir of one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts, but he could not see any way around it that wouldn't further damage his image among the large number of onlookers. "Very well, Lord Slytherin. As to the matter of the dragons, you must realize that sometimes concessions have to be made that do not appeal to us. I can assure you that I bore the dragons no ill will despite the damages incurred on Hogwarts by your spectacular tussle with the Hungarian Horntail."

"You have a funny way of showing it," Harry growled.

Dumbledore let a sad, and yet disappointed look settle across his features. "The hard truth is that we just don't have enough money in the school coffers to pay for the reconstruction needed. As we are trying to hurry the construction timetable along so as to not interfere with the schooling of the students or the Tri-Wizard Tournament, money needed to be obtained in a hurry. As one of the dragons was the main culprit, it was suggested by Lord Malfoy to obtain the money through the dragons."

"Let me see if I understand this, you were going to kill and render four dragons for the fault of one dragon?" Realizing he needed a moment before he could say anything else to the man that didn't include obscenities, he turned his head to his girlfriend. ~_Can you believe this git?_~ he asked her in Parseltongue.

~_Just a moment, Harry._~ Hermione had pulled out a small section on parchment and a muggle pen from one of her pockets. Twisting towards Harry, she put the parchment against his shoulder and began to write at a furious rate. Finishing, she handed the parchment for Harry to quickly read while she put her pen away.

"Impressive," the boy teen commented. "But how can it be anything else when it comes from you." He awarded her a smile that made her blush.

"What is that?" Dumbledore asked, feeling a bit apprehensive. He knew all too well that Hermione's moments of brilliance have often times changed events; making possible that which was thought to be impossible, or more like improbable.

"This note is my-" Harry gave Hermione a quick glance with a smile. "I mean, 'our' business, headmaster."

At first she seemed to want to say something, but then gave a small shake of her head and returned Harry's smile, much to his delight.

"Dobby!"

The happy, excited house-elf burst onto the scene with a quick crack in the air, jumping up and down in joy at having been called. "Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir's Hermie calls for Dobby! Dobby is so happy to serve!"

Looking a little uneasy about giving Dobby orders, Hermione nudged Harry towards the little house-elf.

Harry chuckled for a moment, amused at her discomfort as she was still trying to adjust to the roles of house-elves in the Wizarding world, then folded the parchment and politely gave it to Dobby. "Could you please deliver this, and if they are interested at all, please invite and bring them back with you to where we are now." He paused for a moment, then added, "Otherwise we will go to someone else. Remember to tell them that last part."

Dumbledore was just about to suggest they discuss whatever it was Hermione had written down first, when Harry told Dobby to go, and the house-elf disappeared along with the note he bore.

Harry was again mumbling something in Parseltongue to Hermione in a manner that suggested he was purposefully ignoring the great wizard. While seeing this type of behavior as childish, it did reaffirm Albus' belief that Harry was still too young for the responsibilities he was trying to bear. "My lord." He left off the Slytherin part of his title as he found it distasteful. "I must enquire who it was that you sent Dobby after." He raised a hand to stop any interruptions as he continued. "I ask this as I am the headmaster of this school, I am required to have a knowledge of all those within the school's wards."

If anything, Harry's angry look earlier looked mild by comparison to the killer glare he now turned on to Dumbledore. "I can think of plenty of times you didn't know who was running around on the Hogwarts grounds, headmaster. Peter Pettigrew, Voldemort. Sirius Black. Even that journalist Skeeter seems to be able to come and go without anyone knowing about it. As for who I invite here is up to me; as I am actually one of the Founders heirs."

It was at that moment they noticed that they had been joined by one of the Hogwarts teachers. Professor McGonagall, the normally reserved woman looked to be trying to shake off her bewilderment with only some success. "Mister Potter,-"

"Lord Slytherin," Hermione corrected automatically.

"Pardon?" McGonagall asked, her voice perplexed and cracking due to stress.

Dumbledore saw this as a chance to ensure Minerva siding with him. "Harry, pardon, I mean Lord Slytherin, prefers to be addressed by his title."

"For this discussion at least," corrected Harry. "Titles carry the weight of authority after all," he said with a firm nod.

Solemnly, the headmaster nodded back. "There is truth in that. But such positions can be abused in how they are used," he retorted, inferring to Harry's stances about the dragons.

Harry let out a snort. "Yes, I've seen good examples of people abusing the power of their position every time I go to class in Potions."

The headmaster frowned. "That's not what I was referring to, Lord Slytherin. Perhaps if you were to address the problem to your Potions Professor?"

"You want me to discuss the problem with Potions classes with the one who is the problem in Potions classes? That would go over as well as a thrown snowball in a hippogriff's face!"

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, pointing urgently off to one side.

"Eh?" He glanced over in the direction she was indicating. What he saw incensed him. "Bloody hell! Stop that! What do you think you are doing? You have no right to do that!"

Dumbledore could only follow after the two rushed teenagers who were headed straight towards the head of the dead basilisk where Snape was. The headmaster could only let out a tired groan. The man had the worst timing!

"I said stop!" growled Harry.

Snape looked up with a sneer. He had been kneeling down in front of the dead basilisk, his hands safely covered with dragon-hide gloves while draining one of the massive fangs of it's remaining venom into a large unbreakable glass vial. "That will be fifty points from Gryffindor for talking disrespectfully to a teacher. As for what I am doing, I am gathering whatever potion ingredients I can still scavenge from this long dead beast. In case you forgot, nearly eighty percent of my potion ingredients were destroyed when you and one of those damnable dragons crashed into the castle."

While Snape made a valid point, his means of expressing did little to endear Harry to his cause. "I killed this beast in the Chamber of Secrets! It's carcass is mine by right of conquest!"

Snape snorted in disdain. "Bah! We are all supposed to believe you managed to kill this creature? More like you came across it's dead body and decided to make up some story about how you killed it. All to gather more fame to fill your already bloated head, Potter. But either way, this carcass was obviously left abandoned so you have no valid claim to hold that this dead beast is yours to do anything with. As it was found on the grounds of Hogwarts, I, as the potions professor, am allowed to take whatever I desire from it. In fact your friend Hagrid, part of his job as groundskeeper here at Hogwarts is to bring me the dead things he finds in the Forbidden Forest so that I can render whatever is still useful down for ingredients, whether it be unicorns, acromantulas, Cornish pixies or dryads."

"This is true, Harry," spoke the headmaster as he caught up to them. "While it is nice that you brought the basilisk up, it is now the property of the school. And as such, much of it shall be used to restore Professor Snape's potion stores. Some will of course be traded for other necessary potion supplies, but when all is said and done, what remains of the basilisk's corpse will most likely not be enough to pay for all of the construction costs."

Harry grit his teeth. If Dumbledore asked for the dragons again, Harry knew he would hex him. "I'm not going to let you murder the dragons!"

"You won't have to, Lord Slytherin."

Everybody turned to see Dudley coming up to them swaying a little and looking a bit green at the closeup sight of the dead basilisk. Yet it wasn't him that had spoken, but the Sorting Hat he still bore on his head. "The basilisk is still yours to do with as you see fit, my lord. You did kill it after all. I was there and bore witness to the whole event."

"Even if what you say were true," snarled Snape, annoyed at the interference to his work, "he still abandoned it for almost two years. Thereby, voiding his right and enabling anyone to claim it, which I am!"

"Abandoned it you say?" The cloth hat chuckled to himself. "I believe he left the place sealed off and that only he could open it again. That does not constitute abandonment. It says he was storing it." With an amused grin, he turned slightly toward Harry and managed to do something that may have been a wink.

"Plus," spoke up Hermione, "Harry has already invited prospective buyers to see about purchasing the basilisk."

Realization flickered in Dumbledore's eyes as he put things together. "That note you sent off with Dobby."

As if to answer his guess, Dobby cracked into existence along with ten Goblins. Nine of the Goblins were obviously guards, or more like soldiers as they wore enough armor to cover a tank. Each of the Goblin guards were facing outwards of their ring formation, visually scanning the area in front of them for potential threats. After a moment, they began to slowly march in the direction that the Goblin was heading, straight towards Harry Potter.

Dobby was on his hands and knees, panting as if he had run a marathon. As Harry and Hermione watched, Bristy popped into being next to Dobby. The head house-elf patted Dobby gently on the shoulder with a worrisome look before disappearing with the exhausted house-elf. Harry made a mental note to check on the devoted house-elf later when things weren't so crazy.

Harry could feel the eyes of the ornately dressed Goblin leader evaluating him the closer he got, causing him to start to sweat and feel a hundred times more awkward than he normally would.

Hermione, sensing his predicament, nudged him gently with the hand she had attached to his back. "Harry," she whispered. "Bow low, but be sure to maintain eye contact with the Goblin in the middle; he should be the assayer, the one who is in charge of the group. You can smile, but whatever you do, don't show any teeth or they could take that as meaning you have hostile intentions."

"Ok. Bow low, keep eye contact. Smile, but no teeth. Got it, thanks, Hermione. I don't know what I'd ever do without you," he managed to whisper back, making her blush happily. "How do you know all this?" he whispered, while they both bowed.

She chuckled. "Believe it or not, Gringotts has pamphlets for Wizards and Witches to understand Goblin cultures."

Harry thought about it for a moment. "I don't remember seeing any pamphlets available when I went there."

"That's part of the cultural problem," she explained. "You see, you have to ask the Goblins for them, and then purchase them."

"Aren't pamphlets supposed to be free?"

She gave a small shake of her head. "Not according to the Goblins." She paused as she racked her brain for other tidbits of knowledge. "Oh, and I should add we have to stay bowing until we are addressed by the assayer or one of his guards."

Sensing movement behind him, Harry was surprised to note that his cousin Dudley was mimicking Harry and Hermione and performing a similar bow. Even the Sorting Hat seemed to manage a bow in its own manner. Harry was not at all surprised when Professor Dumbledore chose instead to walk forward to greet the small platoon of Goblins.

Harry let out a low groan. "I don't think Dumbledore bought one of those pamphlets," Harry murmured to Hermione.

The headmaster, if anything, drew himself up to his full height and gave a sparkly, toothy smile to match the twinkle in his eyes. The Goblins were such a stubborn lot that the aged wizard felt the need to put on the extra charm, though, despite all his attempts over the years, he'd never seemed to get into their good graces.

"Good day, is it not, Mastersmith Brokenhand?"

The congression of Goblins came to an immediate halt, those Goblins closest to the headmaster could be seen tightening their grip on the handles of their weapons. The Goblin in the center of his fellow Gringotts workers was old and shrunken down with age, yet his eyes held a strong fire that even Dumbledore could envy. While his armor was not as heavy as that worn by the younger Goblins around him, it was fully functional and had strike marks that bore witness to its durability.

"You have mistaken me, wizard. Not that you have much of a history at getting things right when it comes to the Goblin people," growled the Goblin.

"Ah, I do apologize," Dumbledore said, trying to sound more apologetic than he felt. "I do not have the eye for discerning the various characteristics of the Goblin people."

Harry swallowed. "Did he just say they all look alike to him?" he managed to whisper to his best friend.

"Yep," Hermione managed to squeak out.

"Isn't this exciting!" whispered the Sorting Hat, loud enough for the young couple to hear. "We may very well be witnessing the start of the new Goblin uprising!"

The elder Goblin was now bearing his teeth, several of which turned out to be made or at least encrusted with diamonds. "I am Master Assayer Screwball of Gringotts. I have been sent in answer to a request from Lord Slytherin regarding a sale."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore nodded sagely, as he turned to look at the very one claiming the title of Lord Slytherin. In doing so, he was startled to see Harry, Hermione and several others bowing for some reason. Considering the disagreement he'd been having with Harry, he was relatively certain Harry wasn't bowing to him. Still, the only other alternative was that they were bowing to the Goblins for some reason the he himself could not fathom. Even Minerva, his deputy, had decided to follow suit, and was bowing, mimicking the others. "Now what is all this?"

Still scowling, Screwball and his company of Goblins marched right past a speechless headmaster, and right up to where Harry and Hermione were maintaining their bow and eye contact.

"Lord Slytherin," the head Goblin said in a more respectful tone, even if it was somewhat squeaky that made everyone think of Professor Flitwick. "I am Master Assayer Screwball. I have come in the name of Gringotts to examine and evaluate the item you mentioned in your letter."

"It is an honor, Master Assayer Screwball," Harry began as he and Hermione straightened up.

Hermione quickly added, "And may your gold continue to accumulate in your coffers, and may your enemies be much poorer for it."

Screwball grinned now, but showed no teeth, much to their relief. "And may your investments be profitable, and your enemies be impotent in their efforts to stop you."

The Goblin in charge regarded Harry and the young female that stood so close to him. Yes, respectful young Wizards like this he could work with, having a greater guarantee for future profits for everyone. "Well met, Lord Slytherin," said the Master Assayer. "And is this female beside you your life-mate?"

Blushes bloomed almost instantly on the cheeks of the two teenagers. "Ah," began Harry, "well, we are just starting to date." He shot Hermione a quick look and was happy to note that while she, too, had been embarrassed by the abrupt question, she didn't seem at all displeased with the assumption.

Screwball raised in eyebrow in surprise. "I apologize if my presumption caused you embarrassment," he said to the young couple. "May I speak freely?" He eyed Dumbledore warily as the headmaster looked to be trying to interpose into the exchange.

Harry, not seeing any reason not to, gave a nod. "Sure."

Before speaking, the Goblin gave the two teens a more thorough look. He then removed a monocle from his left eye that must have had some type of notice-me-not spell on it. "My people use items like this to examine magical people, creatures and items. With this I could see that your magic, which is extremely powerful I have noted, seems to have linked or merged with each other, similar to that of the soul bonds of legend."

"Ah," interrupted Dumbledore. "There is an interesting explanation for that which would rule out any possibility of a soul bond. It all has to do with young Harry's-"

Harry gave an angry cough.

Dumbledore quickly amended what he was saying. "My apologies. I do mean Lord Slytherin. There was an accident at the end of Harry's turn in the first event of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Through what seems to me to be over-extreme use of his magical core, his core breached. Miss Granger somehow managed to stop the leak through physical contact, which she is doing even now in the hopes that Har- Lord Slytherin's core will heal."

Screwball rubbed his grizzled chin in thought. "If his magic responds to her in such a manner, then they must be soul mates. There is no other instance where their magic could work together."

"I'm sure you are mistaken," Dumbledore stated while forcing a congenial smile. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a young redhead female racing off after overhearing what they were talking about. The headmaster cursed himself for not taking better precautions. Now he had a conversation with an angry redhead to look forward to later to add to this already bad day.

"Per-perhaps this is something we can check on later," Harry suggested, hoping Hermione was alright with that. Hermione gave a hesitant nod, biting her lower lip as she continued to think on the matter. Off to the side, Harry could see Dudley was trying to understand what was being discussed, but for once, had the good sense to keep his mouth shut. Professor McGonagall seemed rather pleased to hear about Harry and Hermione's possible bond, but otherwise said nothing to interfere with the teens meeting with the Goblins, having determined that they were handling things quite well so far.

"Very well then," Screwball noted. "Now I take it that this is the acquisition behind you, yes?"

"Yes," Harry said, happy to have moved on to a different matter. "Please remember that I killed the basilisk nearly two years ago in May. I have no doubt quite a bit is unsalvageable. The hide and skeleton should all be good though."

Screwball adjusted his monocle. "True. I would have loved to have gotten a steak for myself out of that beautiful beast. But I agree; the meat is no longer edible. Fortunately, most of the meat could be salvageable for other things, such as specialized fertilizer. The organs, another valuable quality, are also good for nothing other than fertilizer. Pity, as we would have made the most money off of them. Likewise with the eyes."

Harry managed a weak shrug. He decided against mentioning Fawkes blinding the monstrous snake.

"The venom, however, should still be viable even after all this time, safely contained within the venom sacs."

There was a sudden outcry as one of the Goblin guards dragged someone over by their obviously broken arm. Showing strength that belied his smaller form, the guard threw the long figure over to where it tumbled end over end, getting tangled in the robes being worn. Fortunately, the figure, one Severus Snape, had passed out due to the pain from his broke arm. If the potions master had still been awake, there was no doubt in Harry's mind that he would spout enough vitriol that the Goblins would be obligated to kill him for the sake of their honor. For a moment, Harry had to fight the temptation to rennervate the vile man and let him doom himself. Fortunately for Snape, Harry didn't want to be responsible for the death of the greasy git.

The guard that had dragged Snape over said something as an explanation to his leader in the Goblin tongue, ending by handing over the glass vials that Snape had been using to collect the basilisk venom.

A snarl began to cross Screwball's craggy features, and his lips opened slightly, allowing some light to sparkle off some of the diamonds in his mouth. "Explain please, Lord Slytherin, your letter said that the basilisk had been untouched, and that the Goblin nation would have first chance at making a purchase. Yet, this oily braggart was siphoning the venom despite promises you made to us."

Harry hurriedly spoke up before Dumbledore could interfere. "My apologies, Master Assayer. This greasy git was arguing with me earlier about my claim to the basilisk. His disagreement with me mainly stems from his hatred of my father, although I am sure that part of it was due to him being a greedy bastard who refuses to take no for an answer. Again, I apologize for not having finished dealing with him earlier. Please accept the vials of basilisk venom that he has already collected as compensation for any insult you felt incurred to the honor of your people." Seeing that Dumbledore was about to say something, Harry held up one finger to point to him. "Not one word, headmaster."

The small Goblin stood there while the students and faculty members watched in silence. Screwball weighed the vials in his hand, also noting that the guard that had brought the matter to his attention still held two more vials. It was literally a fortune that the young lord was giving away. And Screwball was certain that the teen knew that, too. Perhaps he was trying to make up for the impertinent manners of his headmaster. There was definitely more to this matter than he could see right now, but at the very least Lord Slytherin will have made the Goblins friendlier to his needs. "The gift to Gringotts is accepted." Then with a stern look, asked, "And now, has anything else regarding the basilisk been taken or tampered with?"

"Not to my knowledge," Harry stated, truthfully.

"And it is your intention to sell the entire carcass to the Goblin people?"

"Not entirely, but definitely the majority," Harry answered.

"Now, Harry my boy, I really must insist that you let me take over-" Dumbledore began, as he tried to make his way to the boy and the Goblin. Almost instantly, he found his way impeded by a Goblin guard with a razor-sharp pike leveled at the headmaster's groin.

Harry was frowning now. "Headmaster, despite all the people around, this is a private matter, one that does not include you. Your services are neither needed nor required. Your attempts to be part of this matter, without being asked, are insulting. Believe me when I say that you are taking a peaceful transaction that could strengthen peaceful relations between the Wizarding world and Goblins, and potentially turning it into the start of a new war between our two peoples. Please, for the greater good, leave this matter to Master Assayer Screwball and myself."

Albus Dumbledore had not been talked to in such a manner in several decades before Harry's parents were even born. He could see the confusion in the eyes of the students watching the spectacle. While most were not sure what to make of things, a majority of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students present seemed to side with Harry. Those that seemed to agree that the headmaster should take charge surprisingly were mostly from the house of Slytherin. He knew he must be missing some key elements to what was going on, but he still couldn't let Harry haggle with this Goblin by himself. The boy had already given away a small fortune in basilisk venom, thus proving to the headmaster that Harry didn't know what he was doing.

Grimacing, the wizened wizard gave a small shake of his head. "I'm afraid that-"

A powerful petrifying spell struck the headmaster from behind, making him unable to continue. Dumbledore pushed with his magic to break the holding spell, but someone had followed it up with three more petrifying spell in addition to summoning his wand from him.

"I do apologize," Professor McGonagall spoke calmly, as she deftly caught Dumbledore's wand, and casually ignored the Goblin who was nearly prodding her with his pike. "The headmaster can become too interested in matters, often sticking his overlong nose where it doesn't belong. Perhaps it is part of his growing eccentricities, though I can't say for sure." She looked around while she determined her next step. "If I may have your leave, I would take the headmaster and our potions master to the hospital wing. Perhaps Madam Pomfrey could take a moment to give the headmaster a quick examination to determine… if anything is off with him."

A stunned Harry had to be gently prodded by Hermione before he could respond. "Um, yeah, sure. Have him checked out. I mean, you can't be too careful, right?" He managed to give Hermione a sheepish grin when she poked him.

Screwball waved down his guard who stepped back from the transfiguration professor, but kept his weapon at the ready.

With two levitation spells, Dumbledore and Snape were airborne. Before leaving, McGonagall gave a bow to the Master Assayer, then turned to Harry. "Lord Slytherin, as I and the headmaster will be away, if you have any questions, please seek council with Professor Flitwick. He is a treasure trove of knowledge. As Master Assayer Screwball is a just and honorable being of much renown, from what I have heard of his dealings, he has every right to be proud. You were right to offer a gift as compensation for the insult he suffered soon after arriving here. The Master Assayer could have justly taken the life of Professor Snape as a thief, but thanks to you, Lord Slytherin, our potions master's life was spared."

Harry struggled to keep from laughing when he noticed Ron in the background suddenly looking very depressed. Several of the other Weasleys were paying attention now as well since Madam Pomfrey had evidently portkeyed to the Infirmary with their brother Charlie.

"Master Assayer?" said Hermione. "Perhaps we should let you let do an examination of the basilisk before discussing any more business for now. That would give us a chance to remove the spectators."

Screwball scratched at his chin. "Let them watch for now, as long as they do not get in the way. It will give them an appreciation for the skill and thoroughness of the Goblin people." The Goblin touched something by his ear that removed a notice-me not spell that had evidently been on a headset that held a small conch shell in place at his right ear as well as another small conch shell held near his mouth and began speaking into it.

"It's like a wireless, handless telephone!" Hermione excitedly squealed as quietly as she could to Harry.

"Huh, I wonder if they modeled it after the muggle version or if some muggles had somehow gotten the idea from the Goblins? I suppose the Goblins could have created a muggle version and sold it."

Before they could speculate any further, the remaining Weasleys moved in now that Screwball had gone to examine the basilisk. Coming in with them were Harry's three competitors tournament: Fleur, Cedric and Viktor.

Ginny plowed into Harry's side, nearly knocking both him and, due to their connection, Hermione over. "Thankyou! ThankyouforsavingCharliefromtheHorntail!" the redhead blurted out as she shed tears onto his shoulder.

"Er, it wasn't just me, Ginny. Hermione also helped a lot in convincing the dragon to let your brother go. I'm not sure I could have done it without her."

Ginny let out a loud sniff as she slowly leaned back before timidly looking up at the girl attached to Harry. "Um, thank you, too, Hermione."

The Gryffindor bookworm wasn't sure what to make of Ginny. True, she was a year younger than the Gryffindor Trio as some had called them, but she had considered the redhead to be one of her friends. But ever since Harry's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire, when Hermione had gone to help him alone, Ginny had taken to avoiding her. While she knew that Ginny had had a long-time crush on Harry, as did many a girl at Hogwarts, Hermione had assumed that her infatuation had gone away since she hadn't volunteered to help Harry train for the tournament as well. Now she wasn't so sure.

"Harry, mate, you-"

"-are most definitely-"

"-the hero of the Weasley clan-"

"-for life!" Fred and George mussed up his hair but were too overjoyed to do anything else.

"You haf really killed that beast?" Viktor asked, seriously impressed.

"Yeah, about two years ago."

"How?" Fleur asked, who was simply agape at the mere thought of someone facing that thing. "You would 'ave been just a lettle boy."

"A phoenix, the Sorting Hat, the sword of Gryffindor and a lot of luck. That's the secret to my success."

"Now, now, Lord Slytherin," said the Sorting Hat. "You forget your bravery and determination to save Miss Weasley and defeat the shade that controlled her. It really was quite heroic, even for a Gryffindor."

Ginny took that as her cue to hold onto Harry even tighter while burying her head into his chest. Harry looked over to give Hermione a look of confusion only to see that she wasn't very amused with the youngest Weasley.

Ron, however, seemed very amused. "You know what, Harry? If you were to get married to Ginny, you'd be our brother-in-law; we'd be family."

Neither Harry nor Hermione were amused. "Ron, Hermione's my girlfriend. If I were to be thinking of marrying anyone, it would rightfully be her, don't you think?"

Ron, surprisingly, had sensed that he had gone too far. "Uh, no, I was just saying. I mean with Ginny in your arms and all, the thought just popped in my head. I didn't mean anything about it, really. I just didn't think."

The twins, however, were there to save the day. "It's true," nodded Fred.

"Our youngest brother rarely thinks," finished George.

Redfaced, Ron gave his brothers a look of severe annoyance. Meanwhile, Ginny reluctantly disengaged from Harry and stepped away.

"So the money from the basilisk should cover everything for fixing Hogwarts, right?" Cedric asked, deciding it prudent to change the subject. "I'm still rather angry that Malfoy had the dragon I fought killed. But I still want the school fixed, just not at the cost of the life of a dragon, you know?"

"Yeah, I hear you. And I think it will."

"Vhat did you talk to dragon about?" Victor decided to ask. "How did you convince beast to release dragon handler?"

Harry could understand their curiosity. "Well, you see she didn't know about the Malfoy plan to kill them. But someone had been stealing the eggs of the dragons so she captured Charlie in order to bring me here since I am able to talk with them through parseltongue."

"How'd Hermione speak parseltongue anyway?" Ron bluntly interrupted. "She couldn't do that before."

Harry and Hermione shared a look. "Well, we really are not sure, but it's probably due to Hermione using her hand on my back to seal the holes in my magical core."

"Zee dragon, did she say who has taken the eggs?" Fleur asked, interrupting herself from watching the Goblins work in examining the dead basilisk.

"They don't know. The eggs were summoned from their nests. Because the dragons were in cages, the dragons couldn't go after the thief," Hermione explained.

"Hey, look!" Cedric pointed. "Lovegood is talking to the head Goblin!"

The blonde Ravenclaw was indeed conversing with Screwball. Professor Flitwick was there to one side, but seemed content in letting the student and Master Assayer talk freely with one another. Instead of the usual look of annoyance associated with Goblins having to talk with a witch or wizard, Screwball seemed rather pleased with the girl.

Before they could speculate on what the young witch and Goblin could be talking about, Neville hurried over to talk to Harry and the others. "Hey, guys, I don't know if you've noticed, but I think some of the Goblins are trying to get to Bagman." He then pointed in the direction for them to look.

Ludo Bagman, holding a large leather bag close to his chest, was indeed trying to walk away from two Goblins who seemed to be herding him toward a third Goblin that was a ways in front of Bagman.

"I wouldn't think much of it," George commented.

"It's just Bagman getting his just desserts," added Fred.

"He owes the Goblins quite a bit of money from gambling debts," continued the first twin.

"And has been trying to make up the loss by gambling even more." Fred shook his head.

"He even owes us from our big bet we made at the Quidditch World Cup," George revealed.

"The creep paid us in Leprechaun gold, which of course disappeared later on," Fred said with a huff.

"So we've been taken to severely pranking him whenever we can." George gave an evil grin. "All our more devious creation we test on him."

"So far we've given him a peacock tail, boils on his rear whenever he sits, a forked tongue (his tongue actually transfigured into a fork), the ears of a donkey, and real corn growing on his feet," explained Fred.

"The way we figure it, if he isn't going to pay up what he owes us, then we can use him as the test subject for our creations, that way we don't have to pay some of the students to try them out for us."

Harry waited for Hermione to say something about the twins using Bagman as an unwilling test subject for their potions, but saw that she had a contemplative look in her face. "Hermione?"

"Just a moment, I want to try something," she said, taking her wand out of her pocket. She then cast a cushioning charm on the ground in front of them. "Everyone be ready, okay? Just in case I am right."

Before anyone could ask her what she meant, she pointed her wand in the direction of the frightened Bagman and said, "_Accio dragon eggs_!"

Bagman cried out in alarm as the leather bag he was holding onto suddenly burst opened. Fifteen dragon eggs flew out and sped across the distance in the air toward Hermione and the others.

"Catch them!" Hermione shouted.

Harry, Cedric, Viktor, Fleur, George and Fred immediately jumped into position using their quick reflexes to catch the eggs, then letting them drop to the cushioned ground so they could catch another. Ron even managed to snag one out of the air even though he knocked Neville over doing it.

"Hey, I got one!" Dudley shouted, holding a large dragon egg over his head in a moment of pride.

"That's good, Dudley," Harry said. "We have to try you out for quidditch next year with responses like that."

"Hey! What about me?" Ron groused. "I caught one, too."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I already knew you would, Ron. With all the practicing you've done with your brothers, you'd be a shoo in for next year's team."

Ron grinned. "See, now that's what I like to hear."

The youngest male Weasley was caught unprepared when Bagman ran up and grabbed the dragon egg from him. "You had no right! I need these!" he shouted as he moved to gather up the dragon eggs that had fallen on the cushioned ground and shove them back into his torn leather pouch.

Viktor, the twins and Ron roughly wrestled Bagman to the ground. Neville, seeing the eggs at risk, managed to take Bagman's leather bag away from Ludo despite his protests.

"What is all this then," growled Mad-Eye Moody, causing those wrestling to still as if he had used magic on them.

"Sir," Hermione spoke up. "It appears that Ludo Bagman had stolen several dragon eggs before the dragons were to be taken away in the manner Lucius Malfoy had set up. He probably assumed that no one would notice the missing eggs."

Moody looked down at a nauseous looking Bagman. Viktor removed himself from the dogpile on top of Bagman, but none of the Weasleys moved from the one that had gotten their brother in the predicament he was in.

"The dragon took Charlie Weasley hostage to get Harry here so that she could convince him to find the stolen eggs," Hermione said.

"Yes, it all seems to fall into place after that point, doesn't it," Moody nodded sagely. "There might be a place among the aurors for some of you. Being able to put things together like that is not a common skill."

"It was Hermione that figured it all out," Harry happily praised. "She's the brightest witch of her generation."

"They said the same thing about your mother," commented a contemplating Moody. "Potter men must like their witches smart."

The young couple seemed to redden at the observation, but it was noted by several observers that they seemed to cuddle into each other more than they had been.

"Vhat do ve do vith this von?" Viktor stood towering over the cowardly Bagman.

"Ze Goblins do not zeem to be as interested in talking to him now," Fleur pointed out. And she was correct. The guards that had been trying to corral Bagman before seemed to have returned to securing a perimeter around the basilisk all while shooting amused glances in their direction.

Moody chuckled. "I think that they were just trying to remind Bagman of that he owes them money. That his crime was found out was simply an unexpected bonus."

"And I could have paid them back with the dragon eggs, and had plenty left over, if it wasn't for you meddling kids!" Bagman grumped.

"Sooo… what do we do with him?" Harry asked, stating the question that was on all their minds.

"I'll hand him over to the aurors," Moody said in a threatening manner. "They probably won't keep him long as he still has friends in a lot of high places. Even so, sitting in a cell for a while, cooling his heels while his friends work their bureaucratic magic, will probably do him some good."

From the look on Ludo Bagman's face, you could clearly see he had a very different opinion of that.

As Mad-Eye Moody dragged Bagman off, the others were caught off guard when a quiet voice spoke behind them. "Is Ludo Bagman leaving? I didn't think that would happen until after the Third Task."

"Luna! Geez girl! I'm going to have to put a bell on you," jested Harry Potter.

"Oh, I couldn't allow that, Harry Potter," Luna said in her wispy voice. "The noise of a bell would be counter-productive in my endeavors to find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack or several other hard to find creatures."

Hermione's curiosity could not be denied so she asked the Fey-like girl a question. "Luna, what were you talking to Screwball about?"

Lovegood tilted her head slightly to the left before answering. "Oh, I just mentioned that the meat of the basilisk is probably not very good for consumption of more creatures. But that there were thestrals in the forest that would be more than eager to eat it all up. Then I pointed out how the dung of thestrals is known to have certain magical qualities when used as fertilizer. Their dung is especially good to make certain potion ingredients to grow to be very potent. I then concluded that if the thestrals were to eat of the basilisk, an extremely powerful magical creature, then the dung produced may have an even more remarkable effects when used as fertilizer."

"That's… brilliant!" Hermione said. "I wonder if he would let us research that?"

"I could help with whatever plants you want to try the fertilizer on," Neville volunteered, and actually looked excited to see the results. "I'm sure Professor Sprout would give us some extra space in the greenhouses in which to work."

"Um, I guess I could help," Dudley added, wanting to be a part of things. He was having problems focusing with a Veela nearby, but the Sorting Hat was helping him to focus. Ron, however, was practically stupefied by the mild Veela allure that was escaping from Fleur.

"Me, too," spoke up Cedric.

"It could be a joint project with the Goblins," Fleur pointed out. "I zink I would like to be a part of zis as well."

Viktor was not a fan of gardening, but had worked with thestrals before, so he offered to be on that end of things.

The group quickly formed a huddle as they worked out their ideas before they could present the offer to the Goblins.

They had almost finished with putting together all their ideas when Hermione gently poked him and pointed over to a clump of trees.

There, halfway behind a tree looking over at them was a large black dog.

"Padfoot!"

**AUTHOR's****NoTeS**

_Sorry for the delay in updating. My computer done up and died on me. Luckily I had things saved, though I don't have as much access to a computer as I used to have._

_Ok, had some reveals with this chapter. Bagman is the dragon egg thief! How many people guessed that correctly?_


	16. Chapter 16

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts **

By Ordinaryguy2

Chapter 16

It had been a few weeks since Harry had brought up the basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets. It had been a busy time for everyone.

The sale of the basilisk had brought a much larger amount than Dumbledore had expected. The cost of the repairs to the castle were as good as paid for, and even a few thousand galleons left over. A good part of the reason for the extra money had come from Luna's idea of having thestrals internally process the ruined basilisk meat to become magical fertilizer.

McGonagall had been reprimanded by Dumbledore for her actions in stunning him from behind until she pointed out that the Goblins were about to attack him and students might have been harmed or killed due to him not being able to be polite to a Goblin noble. Professor Flitwick confirmed this, also pointing out that the headmaster had been barred from Gringotts for the next two months as a penalty.

In an effort to keep Sirius Black safe when the fugitive suddenly showed up at Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione had brought the animagus to Hagrid asking him to keep him for them, and that they suspected Sirius (or '_Snuffles_' as they named him) appeared to be part Grim. Hagrid was delighted in taking in even a partial Grim, and said he'd be good company for Fang when Hagrid was busy. They didn't dare tell Hagrid about Sirius actually being Snuffles as they knew he couldn't keep a secret for the life of him. They did, however, make sure they explained to the gentle half-Giant that Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, was actually innocent of the crimes he'd been imprisoned for, and that if Hagrid were to someday come across him, to try and help Sirius, instead of trying to capture him since Fudge still had a '_kissed on sight_' warrant out on him. The groundskeeper wasn't sure he could do that until the students explained that Dumbledore already knew of Sirius' innocence.

The Unspeakable who had come to separate Hermione from Harry's back had brought several colleagues, including Healers and renown theorists. The separation went fine, but as the Unspeakables conducted tests it was surmised that there was a slow seeping of magic from the spots on his back that would not heal. However, when Hermione hugged Harry once she heard this news, the Unspeakables were surprised to note that contact between the two of them automatically stopped his magic from leaking away, in which his magic core quickly refilled to a remarkably staggering capacity. When the Unspeakables ran several scans over Hermione, they discovered that her magical core was also much larger that it had been in the beginning of the year, and was attributed to her time connected to Harry. No one was sure what that meant for the two teens in the long run, but the Unspeakables did set up a series of monthly checkups with them to evaluate how things were going.

As to what Harry and Hermione were doing now, they were standing in the hall outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom with several Seventh year students biding their time as they waited for others.

"C'mon, Harry, can't you just ask her for me? I've seen her talk with you. I think she'd agree if you asked her for me."

Harry had to fight letting out an annoyed groan at his friend's incessant pleading. "Ron, you can't even talk to Fleur. How would you function going to the Yule Ball with her?"

Reality, however, had nothing to do with Ron's wishes. "Yeah, but your asking for me will have taken all the pressure off. I could just relax and be myself, see?"

Harry turned to Hermione with a look that just screamed '_help_'.

"Ron," she began. "Let's say you didn't have any problems talking with Fleur. The question then is what subject could you two talk about? I doubt that she would be interested in talking about quidditch and food all night. Or even past five minutes."

At that, Ron threw his hands in the air. "It's not my fault that girls don't like talking about the important things!"

"Shush!" She looked around apologetically at the others that were now waiting in the hall. "Listen," she said, keeping her voice low, hoping that he would follow her example and do likewise. "What I am trying to suggest is that you might want to consider asking a girl who you have more in common with, you know?"

"Like who?" asked the clueless redhead.

"Well, evidently someone who can talk about food and quidditch for a while at least," Harry remarked, as those were two of Ron's favorite subjects.

Hermione reluctantly nodded. "And she'd have to be someone in Gryffindor, or else your House prejudice would make you ruin the evening rather quick."

"Hey," Ron protested. "There is nothing wrong with being solidly for your House!"

Harry and Hermione shared another look, both silently agreeing not to point out to Ron that that was exactly how Draco Malfoy felt about Slytherin.

Hermione let out a sigh, and hoped she was doing the right thing. "Regardless of that, there is one girl in our House that fits that criteria."

Ron's face scrunched up in a frown. "There is?" Then an idea crossed his mind as to who they were referring. "I'm not taking Ginny to the Yule Ball!"

"Of course not," Hermione said, in growing exasperation. "You may be a pureblood, but you aren't deviant enough to go that route. Besides, Ginny is going with Dean."

"What?" he shouted.

In desperation, Hermione cast a small privacy field around them so that everyone in the hall wouldn't be able to hear them. "Don't be a git, Ron. Fred and George have already given Dean the '_older, dangerous brothers_' talk. Trust me, Dean's scared, but he's still determined to take her. Besides, it was she who asked him out."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," she responded.

Ron's face became troubled again. "Then who did you mean for me to take to the ball?"

"Well, with your obsessive interest in quidditch, I think you should consider taking someone from the Gryffindor team."

He blinked as his brain tried to make sense of that. His brothers were taking Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet. Who was going with which twin would be a guess for the ages, and not something he cared to think about. The only other female currently on the team was- "Wait, you mean Bell? Katie Bell?"

"Why not?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms, welcoming his cross-examination.

"But she's older than me!"

"By one year."

"She's friends with Fred and George."

"Which means she has a sense of humor. And rather tolerant."

He gave them a dubious frown. "I don't know."

Hermione looked to Harry, but he shook his head with a smile and gestured for her to continue.

She exuded a heavy sigh.

"All right, let's consider the pros in her favor. She is on the quidditch team, which means she can talk about quidditch. She, as a member of the team, might have some say in who becomes a member next year, which I'm sure you do want to be. Then there is the fact that she could also help you prepare for the trials for the team next year. I'm sure you would progress farther in your quidditch training if you had more partners to practice with."

Ron's wide-eyed expression told them that he was sold on the idea. Suddenly, he stepped forward and grabbed a startled Harry by the shoulders. "Harry, you're on the team with her, could you ask-"

"Hold on, Ron," he said, pulling free of Ron. "This is your milestone to pass. You get to ask Katie for a date."

Ron's face fell. "What if she already has a date for the ball?"

Harry snorted. "She doesn't. At least not as of last night when Cormac McLaggen asked her out. Don't know what he said exactly, but she did end up kicking him so that both balls went to the side pockets, if you know what I mean, so I'm sure he deserved it."

Ron winced at hearing that. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I think I heard him hollering in pain this morning up in his dorm room."

Harry grinned. "That was something else. Fred and George were getting back at McLaggen for what he said to Katie by sticking him buck naked on a toilet seat and then hitting him with some variation of the Bat-Bogey hex. I'm not explaining the details as I've been traumatized enough for one week. If it's still bothering me next week, I might go and ask one of the teachers to obliviate that particular memory."

Ron paled so much he could have passed for one of the Hogwarts' ghostly denizens. "Do-do you think the twins would mind me asking her out? I am their brother, after all."

Hermione was leaning in against Harry. "Don't worry, Ron, I don't think they will hold it too much against you. I'm sure they will just want to give you a talk similar to the one that they gave Dean."

Ron swallowed nervously, but nodded, as he understood.

"-you guys. Whoa!" Harry's cousin Dudley stopped in his tracks, wide-eyed, his hands up in alarm. "What was that?"

"You just walked through their privacy spell," griped the Sorting Hat that was still being worn by Dudley. A few days prior, the Sorting Hat had informed them that it should be finished with repairs to Dudley's mind by the end of the week. Augusta Longbottom, Neville's grandmother, had already had an in-depth talk with the Sorting Hat and a consulting Unspeakable about what Neville wanted the Sorting Hat to do with repairing the damaged minds of Neville's parents, Frank and Alice Longbottom. Augusta, desperate to restore her son and his wife after hearing how the Sorting Hat was repairing the damage to Dudley's brain, agreed to have the couple removed from St. Mungo's and brought to Hogwarts where the Sorting Hat was confined. Dumbledore had tried to stop this action, stating that Hogwarts was no place for medical experiments, but was quickly overruled by the two Heirs staying at the castle.

"Doesn't matter. We were pretty much finished," Hermione said, using her magic to remove the privacy spell, then put her wand back in her pocket. "Now what was it you were trying to say, Dudley?"

"Um, just that I convinced my mum to let me go down with you and the others into the Chamber of Secrets." He looked embarrassed before continuing. "She made me promise to stay out of trouble and to not go too far from you."

"I'd thought she'd want to come," Harry said, a bit surprised at how much it meant to him that she wasn't coming. Ever since the controlling rods had been removed from her body, Petunia had been trying to start over in her relationship with her nephew. It had been awkward at first as neither of them knew how to react to the other, but Hermione had Harry start off by giving her a more in depth tour of the castle. From there she had Harry have lunch with his aunt and cousin every day so they could get to know the new versions of his relatives. Petunia had gone to classes with Dudley with the First year students, and it wasn't long before she had decided to use her right as an Heir of one of the Founders to begin to change things. First, she got rid of Professor Binns since everyone had fallen asleep in his class, including herself, much to her embarrassment. Dumbledore had tried to have her appeal her decision, but she had remained adamant. Harry had wanted to bring back Remus Lupin to fill in the teacher opening, but Petunia was too nervous about the idea of having a werewolf anywhere nearby despite Harry's assurances that it was perfectly safe. In the end, Professor Flitwick had contacted Andromeda Tonks, remembering her love of history as well as her frustration with Binns undermining the subject that she loved with his droning voice. Andromeda had taken to the position by storm, organizing various ghosts, portraits, and even the Sorting Hat to give their insights of the period of history they were covering in class, as well as interjecting various Muggle historical events that coincided or influenced events in the Wizarding World.

When Petunia heard from Hermione how outdated the Muggles Studies classes were, she made a point to get to know the latest Muggles Studies teacher, Professor Charity Burbage. It only took a little influencing, but Petunia soon was going over new books she had ordered and received, thanks to Winky, with Burbage. For subjects like science, she actually had to obtain introductory books like those used for little kids, but the important part was that Burbage was starting to understand some rudimentary things about the Muggle world. The whole experience was like an awakening for the Muggle Studies teacher who was starting to take on a fascination for the subject that might rival that of Arthur Weasley.

"Well, you see, dad's back this weekend," Dudley said with a sheepish shrug. "Um, mum's going to take him down to see Hogsmeade."

"Oh." One of the things that had not changed since the Dursleys arrived at Hogwarts, was Vernon's clear disdain for Harry. There was hardly any speaking between them, which was just fine for Harry. The teen had actually been a bit hopeful at first that his aunt would be able to use her remarkable ability to find and remove those rods that had been influencing Harry, Petunia and Dudley. It was a big letdown to discover that the Vernon he had grown up knowing was the true Vernon. He'd been looking forward to having a true, happy family that he could be a part of. But Vernon would never allow that. Harry would never be welcome in the family as far as Vernon was concerned. "You think he'll be okay in Hogsmeade?"

Dudley frowned. "I hope so. If he is rude to anyone there, they'll probably hex him. Most of the people there seemed to like mom and me, you know, because of being Heirs of Ravenclaw and all, but a few seemed to resent us."

"They like pedigree bloodlines, the fact that you and your mom come from a forgotten squib family line is probably insulting to some of them."

"There's more to it than that, Harry," Hermione said. "I was talking to Daphne Greengrass in Arithmacy and it seems that quite a few pure-bloods are unhappy with the changes Petunia is making in Muggle Studies."

"Why?"

"Perception. The way the class is changing it makes muggles seem more advanced than that of the Wizarding World."

"But Muggles are more advanced," insisted Harry. "Technology has advanced so far that man has been to outer space and has sent satellites to other planets in our solar system. There are means of communication that can be done on the phone where you can talk to people all over the world. Wizards and witches can only talk with those connected to their country's floo network, and then only by resting on your knees with your head shoved into their fireplace. Pure-bloods still don't know what it is they are looking at when they see a plane fly overhead. And they've probably never even heard of a submarine. They have telescopes but the concept of a microscope seems ridiculous to them."

"What you say is true," admitted the Sorting Hat from on top Dudley's head. "I've at least been able to see several of these muggle marvels when I am sifting through the First Years heads when they arrive. The concept of a Wizarding version of a television is long overdue. It has mostly been impeded due to the fact that muggles had invented it first, so any Wizarding version of it would be copying it. Like that's really a reason to not set up a Wizarding television broadcast. Pure stupidity and stubbornness, that's what it is. The only reason the Wizarding Wireless Network had become accepted by pure-blood wizards and witches was because they didn't know that muggles had come up with it first. Now, you take Noland Fractuse,-"

"Who?" Harry asked.

"The man who gave the Wizarding world the Knight Bus," answered the animated cloth hat. "Fractuse had based his design off of muggle buses, which, of course, did not sit well with the pure-bloods. Fractuse had to push for almost two decades before he was finally allowed to put the Knight Bus into service. I think the only reason the Wizengamot finally let it pass was because they were tired of him presenting his busing idea to them."

"That's some progress though, right?" Dudley said.

"Not really," began Hermione. "The problem is that the Wizarding world is being kept stagnant. The pure-bloods refuse to allow progress and have a death grip on Victorian age social standards, and all the prejudices that went with it."

Harry grinned. "That's our Hermione. Nailed it in one."

Dudley looked down the hall at all the Seventh Years that were waiting patiently. "So where is this secret entrance you're going to show us? And why are we waiting outside the girl's loo?"

"Right in there." Harry pointed to the girls bathroom door.

"There's a secret entrance in the girls loo?" he expressed with surprise.

Harry chuckled. "Right under the sinks."

Dudley took a moment to scratch his head. "Huh, I didn't think that there was indoor plumbing back when castles were built."

That put a frown on Hermione's face. "There wasn't. At least not in the time period that Hogwarts was put together."

The Sorting Hat cackled. "Figured that out, did you? I told you his brain was starting to work properly"

Dudley blushed, while Hermione pressed on. "But then how did the opening to the Chamber of Secrets get placed under the sinks? Surely someone would have noticed something like that, right?"

"Who cares!" Ron said in exasperation, giving Dudley a look of annoyance. "It was long ago, so what does it matter now?" He still wasn't liking the fact that Harry was trying to be friends with Dudley. Sure, Dudley had been under some kind of magical influence, but now that it had been undone, that didn't mean he could just horn his way into the Golden Trio.

"Maybe I should take some time to see about repairing your brain after I'm finished with Dudley, hmm?" The look the Hat gave Ron could have curdled milk. "As for the modified entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, I have a theory about that."

Hermione looked eager to hear what the Sorting Hat had to say. Harry gave Ron a look of confusion. Dudley, however, was trying to look upwards to see the talking hat on his head until Hermione saw what he was doing and cast a spell on the wall to make a large, temporary mirror that he could use.

"You must remember that there had been Heirs in Hogwarts long before you. "The last Slytherin heir to attend Hogwarts before you and Tom Riddle was Corvinus Gaunt in the late 1700s. By that time, many of the pure-bloods had learned about indoor plumbing. Concepts like sinks, showers and, of course, the loo, were a welcome alternative to tubs and chamber pots, no matter where the idea came from. In fact, most pure-bloods insist that wizards must have come up with the idea, and it was stolen by muggle-borns, who passed on the notion to their muggle relatives."

"That is just so conceited! The audacity of pure-bloods is just-just so…frustratingly asinine!"

Harry pulled her into a hug to calm her down before she made too big a scene.

"Not all pure-bloods are like that," Ron pointed out, not wanting to be lumped together with the likes of Malfoy. "My dad thinks it's amazing the way muggles are able to do things without magic."

"As I was saying," the Sorting Hat spoke in a gruffly manner. "When the castle was being renovated to include plumbing for water and what-have-you, that would have been the time that Corvinus Gaunt would have made sure to re-hide the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets before it could be discovered. Whether he bribed the Dwarves to do the work and keep it a secret or used the Imperious Curse -my bet's on the Imperious- the entrance was not discovered."

"Why was he the last Gaunt to come to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

"The Gaunts were peculiar people even for wizards and witches. They were so adamant about keeping their family line pure, that they only married within their close family."

Hermione looked ill; Ron wasn't far behind her.

"You mean like brother and sister?" Harry asked, needing to know at this point.

"Yes," said the Hat.

"Ewwww!" Dudley looked like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin at hearing that. Ron looked ill.

"So their family died out? Is that why this Corvinus is the last Gaunt here?" Hermione managed to ask.

"I'm afraid not," the Hat said. "They were magically banned."

The kids looked at the Sorting Hat in shock. "Banned from Hogwarts?" Hermione repeated, like it was one of the worst things she had ever heard. "Because of incest?"

"Sadly not that. It was because Corvinus had learned that by uniting with Grover Rimmer, a Fourth Year Hufflepuff who was the heir to that House, that they could control virtually everything on the Hogwarts grounds. No one could stand up to them when they were united. Not even the headmaster."

"They were like kings?" Dudley asked, a bit of a gleam in his eye.

"More like tyrants," corrected the Hat, sternly. "One of the first things that they did was eject all of the muggle-borns."

"That's so not fair!"

"Tyrants are rarely fair, my dear," the Hat stated with a sardonic smile for Hermione. "The half-bloods that remained could attest for that. Within a week, most of them fled for their own safety and peace of mind, as did several of the pure-blood light wizards and witches."

"How did it all end?" Harry asked.

"In trickery, of course," chuckled the Hat. "Gaunt and Rimmer were summoned to meet before the Wizengamot. They refused to come until they were promised there would be no imprisonment or corporal punishments."

"Then what did the Wizengamot do?" Hermione asked.

"Once Gaunt and Rimmer arrived, they were magically barred from ever going on Hogwarts grounds again, as were anyone who bore their name."

Hermione covered her mouth as she gasped. Noticing the confused looks of the boys,

she explained her surprise. "So even though they had the authority to do what they liked at Hogwarts, it did them no good since they could never return there."

"Wait." Harry held up a hand. "Could the Wizengamot do that kind of thing to me, Dudley and Petunia?"

"If Dumbledore or someone else convinces them, then yes, you could find yourself barred from here as well."

"And aunt Petunia updating the Muggle Studies is sure to upset plenty of the pure-bloods," Harry said with a groan. "I could find myself locked out of the one place I consider home."

Dudley was about to say something to that, but Hermione motioned for him to not. Feeling somewhat upset by hearing that particular bit of news, Dudley gave a half-hearted swing at the castle wall, ignoring the resulting pain in his hand.

They watched as several of the students from Beauxbatons Academy arrived and lined themselves along a bare section of wall in the hall. Dudley only gave the girls a curtesy glance before turning back to Harry.

"Ok, I can't think about what actions the Wizengamot may or may not try to take, depending on how prejudice and corrupt they may be," Harry said, massaging his forehead. "So evidently Corvinus must have keyed the entrance of the Chamber to open with parseltongue. And when Voldem-"

"Don't say his name!" Ron cried out, shivers running up and down his spine.

"Fine, can I say '_Riddle_'?" Harry asked, already looking annoyed.

"Uh, sure, mate."

"Why can't he say a name?" Dudley asked.

"The Hat can explain it to you later," groused Ron while the Sorting Hat looked down at Ron with amusement.

Harry just pushed on. "So when Riddle came to Hogwarts, it was without the Gaunt name, so he wasn't blocked from gaining access to Hogwarts. We can assume that he somehow later learned about his being related to Salazar Slytherin and the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. And since he did not have another Heir from one of the other Houses to agree with him in order to gain control over Hogwarts, he probably never knew that was a possibility."

Ron scoffed. "It was probably the Bloody Baron or one of the Slytherin portraits that told him."

"That's an assumption, Ron, made from your dislike of Slytherins," chided Hermione.

"Uh…?"

"Yes, Dudley?" Hermione said. She had never really known Dudley from before he came to Hogwarts. What she had heard described of him was not someone she would have wanted to spend any time around. But with the rods that had been influencing him being removed and the Sorting Hat repairing the damage that had been done to his brain when he was an infant, this version of Dudley seemed rather nice, if somewhat unconfident. "What is it?"

"Well, I'd been talking to this kid from Hufflepuff. His name was Zach Smith, I think."

"Zacharias Smith, yes," she acknowledged.

"Uh, anyway, he was saying that his family is descended from the Hufflepuff founder lady." He gave a small hopeful look as if needing to hear that he had shared something useful with them.

Harry nodded. "I think I have heard him bragging about that. He can be a bit of a git at times."

"He's not even a direct descendant," the Sorting Hat commented as he twisted a bit to see the arriving Durmstrang students and their headmaster, the smug, sneering Igor Karkaroff. "The Smith family that Zacharias belongs to is only indirectly related by marriage of an aunt over three hundred years ago. The rest of the family eventually became squibs and moved away, disappearing into obscurity."

"Oh," Dudley said, deflating.

"It was still a good idea, Dudley." Hermione wanted to make sure he felt included. "It did give us more information than we had before. And you never know what will turn out to be useful without trying."

Dudley managed a brief smile before nodding his thanks to her.

A week earlier, Hermione had cornered Lavender Brown in their dorm room. Due to Harry's awakened concern for his cousin, Hermione felt the need to verify the relationship between Dudley and Lavender. True, Lavender had shown him many of the sites of Hogwarts, many of which included the inside of broom closets. Fortunately, with the Sorting Hat still on Dudley's head, the two teens couldn't get away with more than some passionate kissing. Even so, Lavender already had a reputation. Some stories, Hermione knew, were just boys making things up it try impress the other fellas. Others were not. Lavender had been hesitant at talking with Hermione at first, but finally confessed that she had originally started seeing Dudley to get some gossip on Harry. It had come to her as a surprise when she began to realize she was beginning to care for Dudley. Lavender didn't kid herself that this would be a lifelong relationship, but she was kind of hoping that it could turn out to be. It was more of an answer than Hermione had expected to get out of her, and it actually made her think it was possible that Dudley and Lavender could make it work. But for now they were still just teens, and as long as neither had plans to hurt or use the other, Hermione would keep her nose out of it. Dudley's character and self-esteem was still growing, and as he was trying to not to be the old Dudley, but to be a better person, well, Hermione was all for helping him.

As she finished reminiscing, Viktor Krum walked over to them with a friend.

"Ve hope ve are not intruding."

Harry stepped forward, grinning at his fellow Triwizard contestant, and reached out to shake his hand. "Don't be silly, Viktor. You and Luna are friends, not intruders."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Luna said, her wand tucked behind one ear. "Most people aren't always friendly when the press comes to work on a story."

The friendship between Viktor Krum and Luna Lovegood had thrown many people for a loop. There wasn't anything romantic about it; they were just simply friends. They only met after Viktor came across and put a stop to Marietta Edgecombe and two of her friends hexing Luna in the library. Viktor, sensing that Luna had few that she could call friends, took to telling her stories of his homeland. In one of those stories he mentioned coming across a strange creature while zipping through a forest on his broom. Luna had instantly recognized the description of the creature as the legendary Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. That weekend had been a blur for the Bulgarian seeker as Luna had him give a memory of that encounter to be viewed in a pensieve, in which pictures were able to be taken for the next edition of _The Quibbler_. Luna and her father had conducted the most intense interview with him than he had ever had before. Fortunately, once she had written her story for her column she returned to her normal dottiness self, much to Viktor's relief. The Ravenclaws tended to avoid her altogether now that Luna was friends with two of the Champions. A few of her housemates made overtures of friendship once the story of Viktor's sighting of the Snorkack went to print, but it was plainly attempts of people trying to get close to Viktor.

Luna had been sharing that some of the portraits on the sixth floor had spied Peeves talking with a Heliopath, just as Fleur and Cedric, along with Cho Chang, joined them.

"Hey, Harry." Cedric and Harry shook hands while Fleur gave a quick hug to Hermione. "So you ready to give us all the tour of the Chamber of Secrets? I know I can't wait!"

"We'll be heading down soon," Harry acknowledged. "The Slytherins are being fashionably late. Undoubtedly so they can bring more focus on themselves."

"They can be such stuck-up drama queens," Cedric admitted with a chuckle. "Especially their Head of House."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Fred and George are still trying to mimic Snapes' billowing robes when he walks, but so far no luck."

It had been shortly after Harry had the three remaining dragons brought down to the Chamber of Secrets that Harry had decided to hire the Dwarves already working on the castle to also repair some of the tunnels leading into the Chamber of Secrets. When some students heard what Harry was doing, several of them began requesting to see the legendary Chamber for themselves, even if there were dragons currently habituating in it. Harry had discussed the matter to great length with Hermione, Petunia, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick before agreeing to allow the Seventh Years to visit the Chamber on a weekend. Due to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Hermione had suggested that the two visiting schools be included as a show of international fellowship.

As the Head of the House of Slytherin, Snape had insisted on joining on the venture down to the Chamber. Harry agreed, albeit somewhat reluctantly, but Hermione had made a valid point in that Snape might be useful in discovering whether there were any hidden chambers left by Salazar Slytherin. It would be a travesty to miss discovering any relics or ancient books simply because they didn't want to put up with Snape for a few hours on the weekend.

Harry was listening to Fleur tell about another boy with no self-control trying to ask her out only to fail miserably when Hermione nudges Harry's shoulder, then nodded down the hall.

Hagrid's massive frame was impossible to miss as even a blind person could see him coming. But surprisingly, Hagrid had brought a friend on a leash. Snuffles was straining on the collar he bore trying to get to Harry. The other students in the hall cleared out of the dog's path as the dog looked so much like a supernatural Grim.

In order to protect Sirius, as he stayed with Hagrid, Harry and Hermione had spread word that Hagrid's new pet was part Grim. The black dog was boney in appearance giving it a more spectral appearance, and when adding in the intelligence found in the animal's eyes, the students at Hogwarts were more than willing to believe that Snuffles was part Grim. No one had any doubts that Hagrid would take in a Grim if he could.

"'Allo, 'Arry! 'Ermione! 'Ope you don't mind, but Snuffles seemed ta want ta come along with me so much that I didn't have the 'eart to leave 'em behind."

Harry was already hugging the Grim and scratching the canine behind his ears. "Snuffles is always welcome, Hagrid."

The half-Giant beamed at the attention that his new pet was receiving from Harry, Hermione and Luna.

"'_Snuffles_'?" Luna inquired. "He looks more like a '_Stubby Boardman_' to me."

"'_Stubby Boardman_'?" Hermione tried to remember where she had heard that name before. She was pretty sure it was someone one of her dorm mates had mentioned, but she couldn't remember the context.

"He was the lead singer of _The Hobgoblins_. In actuality, the name was an alias used by none other than Sirius Black, which also explains why no one has seen Stubby Boardman since around 1980," she said, matter-of-factly.

Harry managed a weak grin, as he began to scratch the ear of the astonished dog. "I think we'll just keep the name '_Snuffles_' for now."

"Ok, Harry Potter."

Cedric stepped closer towards them. "The drama queens are here," he said in a mock whisper.

Snape regally strolled in with the Seventh Year Slytherins, plus one Draco Malfoy. They walked passed the others in the hall to march to the very front, as if they expected to be the first down into the Chamber of Secrets.

"Professor Snape," Harry spoke, his tone cold. "I think a mistake has been made. Only Seventh Years and our two visiting schools were invited to descend to the Chamber of Secrets."

Snape sneered at him. "And yet I see that Weasley, Granger, Dursley, Chang and Lovegood are going down as well despite not being in their Seventh year. Isn't that something of a double standard?"

Cho half-heartedly raised her hand. "Oh, professor, I'm not actually going. I'm just seeing Cedric off. I'll hear about it from him when he gets back."

Snape's only response to the Ravenclaw seeker was a derisive snort from his hook nose.

"And for your information," began Harry, "Hermione is coming along for several reasons, the one you would find most important is that she can also speak Parseltongue. So if there is any problems down there, she can help to calm the dragons as well as open and close the doors to get out of there, which, as you know by now, only respond to Parseltongue."

Harry had discovered Snape trying to get down into the Chamber of Secrets on four different occasions, none of which had been successful. From the various marks on the walls, Snape had made more attempts than that, but Harry had only caught him those particular times.

"As for Ron, he went down there two years ago to rescue his sister. But due to that idiot Lockhart, Ron didn't get to make it to the actual Chamber itself. So I'm giving him the chance to do so now. Dudley is one of the Heirs of the Founders. He has more of a right to check out the Chamber of Secrets than you do, professor."

"And the reason for Lovegood's presence?" Snape asked snidely.

"She's here as a journalist; she's writing a column for _The Quibbler_."

"What a coincidence," Snape drawled. "That is exactly what Mr. Malfoy is doing."

"You can't be serious!"

"Don't use that phrase around me," growled Snape. "As for Mr. Malfoy's willingness to be a journalist, I'm sure even _you_ have heard about _The Daily Prophet_ being overhauled due to compulsion charms being discovered hidden within its pages."

Right after the dragon/basilisk/Bagman incident, aurors had come down on _The Daily Prophet_ after gaining enough proof that the printing department was placing weak compulsion spells in parts of the paper to influence the opinions of their readers. Unfortunately, their efforts were stymied due to the fact that the editor and staff were unable to tell who it was they were working for due to magical vows.

"What about it?" Ron called out, adding his vitriol before Harry or Hermione could stop him.

Snape was about to deduct points from Ron, but then realized that Harry would just reverse the decision, which was yet another frustrating power that they had learned that the Heirs to the Founders have. As much as Snape wanted to bring the Gryffindors down several rungs, to attempt to do so now, when he was sure to fail, would make him loose face in front of his Snakes.

Instead, Snape would knock the wind out of their sails in other ways. "Lord Malfoy has taken it upon himself to restore _The Daily Prophet_ back to its good name. He has purchased the newspaper, along with a few colleagues, in an effort to keep the people of the British Wizarding world informed." He looked down happily at the dismayed faces in front of him. "For his part, Draco volunteered to do a column on the Chamber of Secrets and how the dragons are desecrating it."

Harry's eyes narrowed at the implied bent of Draco's paper. "Please remember that a sixty-foot basilisk lived down there for more than a thousand years. The three dragons have been down there for just a few weeks."

Draco sniffed with distain. "I will write my column the way I want, Potter. I don't need any advice from you."

Harry frowned. With Draco claiming to be writing for _The Daily Prophet_ Harry couldn't just bar Draco as it would look like he was playing favorites by allowing Luna to come and write for her father's paper. Harry decided to use the Slytherin side of his personality.

"Very well. I don't think it wise, but as long as Professor Snape takes full responsibility for Draco, I will allow it."

"What do you mean by that?" Draco snarled.

"Indeed, what?" The Potions professor knew he was being baited by the Potter brat, but he didn't see the hook just yet.

"Just this, there are three nesting dragons down there. While I have explained to them about bringing older students down to see the Chamber, those mothers are going to be uncomfortable with our presence near their clutch of eggs. Also remember that several of their eggs were stolen from them just a few weeks ago, so everyone will have to be on their best behavior."

"Are you implying that I am a thief, or that I can't behave?" Draco growled, nearly as threateningly as his namesake.

Harry regarded Draco with a cold, calculating eye. "Do you remember our first year flying in Madame Hooch's class? Neville's Remembrall that you took and wouldn't give back? Do I think you are a thief? Yes. As for can you behave? Need I remind you that it was your reckless and incredibly stupid behavior that led to Buckbeak attacking you? Down in the Chamber of Secrets are three dragons. Three nesting mothers. And their flame reaches a lot farther than Buckbeak's foreclaw. And it will do considerably more damage, too."

Snape glanced down at his godson. His mind warred with itself over Potter's words. While he failed to even consider Potter's theft comment, the scenario that he had painted about the dragons and Draco seemed all too plausible.

"Oh, please let him go down with you into the Chamber, Harry!"

Everyone was surprised to see Moaning Myrtle float through the bathroom door. The young ghost seemed almost giddy with excitement.

"Just think!" she exclaimed, beating doe-like eyes in Draco's direction. "If he were to die horribly down there, then he and I could be together for the rest of our deaths! He could share my toilet with me, and we could travel up and down the pipes! I'd be able to show him all of my favorite haunts!" She let out a shrill giggle that sent shivers up and down the spines of everyone there. "Won't that be just so romantic?"

Draco did not seem to have the same ideas as the ghost, as his face seemed to revolve from horror to revulsion and back again.

Hermione quickly stepped in before Snape said something to hurt her feeling. "Myrtle, where is your, um, '_Myrtle suit_'. I thought you were wearing it everywhere nowadays?"

The ghost put out pouty lips. "I had to borrow it out, because he," she pointed accusatorily at Snape, "said I was stalking my dear Draco. Said I wasn't wanted." She began to shake her head and smile. "But I didn't let that stop me. Oh no. I just became invisible and followed my dear Draco everywhere. I'd watch over him as he slept. Sat next to him in class." She then giggled into her hand. "I even watched him shower."

"Wh-what!" Draco looked like he was about to go into shock. Behind him, several of the Seventh Year Slytherins were starting to slowly fall over as they tried to keep from laughing out loud.

Myrtle than whispered to a disgusted and befuddled Hermione. "He likes to take long showers!"

Hermione finally had to clap her hands over her own ears and began to hum loudly to herself as she back peddled away from the wacky ghost. Somethings should never be discussed, or even thought about. Her first thought was to have herself obliviated of that particular memory.

Snape, however, had had enough. How had the stalking specter get past Draco's ghostly guard that he had set up? "Myrtle, where is the Baron? He was supposed to be watching over Draco. Answer me, Myrtle!" he demanded of the teen spook who was blowing kisses in Draco's direction.

Myrtle gave another giggle much to Snape's annoyance. "Oh, you could say he has found something else to occupy his time!"

Nothing in the dread Baron's long history of haunting Hogwarts has ever deterred him from his duties before. He was a stickler for details. And even the pranking poltergeist Peeves was unwilling to go against the likes of the Bloody Baron. What in Merlin's name could this young teenage ghost have possibly done to hinder the Slytherin ghost from his duties?

Gritting his teeth, Professor Snape called out. "Baron! Come here immediately, Baron! I want to see you before me right now!" Snape used the magic placed in him as the Head of Slytherin to draw of the ghost of the deceased man to where he was. Partly, it was a show of power meant to impress the others as to the control he had over the most feared ghost in the castle. It was also due to being truly pissed that his commands had been ignored. He yelled for the Bloody Baron a second time.

A door down the far end of the hall slammed open. "Shut it! I can hear yer catterwailin', ya blasted bat-brained booby!"

Everyone in the hall turned and stared, jaws falling open. As the figure stomped down the hall neared people, they would step aside, some even trying to merge with the wall in order to not get too close to the bizarre sight in front of them. Storming down the hall, at first appeared to be Myrtle in her potion misshaped created '_Myrtle suit_', only over the suit was a yellow sun dress, high heel shoes, several necklaces, and a shell encrusted tiara. It was only as the individual came closer that the face of the Bloody Baron could be seen through the semi-transparent face of the Myrtle suit.

Snape stood there watching in horrific fascination at the transvestite spirit, noting that even lipstick and eyeliner had been applied on the face of the '_Myrtle_' suit. "Well, what is it now? Peeves shuffle ya potions around agin? The redhead devil twin pranksters seal ya backside shut yet agin? Bats one agin move into ya personal toilet? The Malfoy brat steal all the lemon droppin's ya make fer the current headmaster - whatever his name is? Well? Answer me, man! I have my own things I wants to be gettin' on with!"

"What?" Snape sputtered, trying to mentally deal with the image in front of him. "What in the name of Merlin are you doing? Why are dressed like that?" He gaped ever so briefly before his mind jumped to the most obvious conclusion. "It was those damn Weasleys! They've bespelled you into that ridiculous outfit! I'll have them exp-"

"Just shut ya flappin' gob!" snarled the ghost. "T'wasn't the redhead tricksters that got ta me. Nay, it was long ago, before me and me body parted ways."

"Baron, you are not talking sense!" Snape was becoming aware again of their location as well as so many damnable eyes watching this spectacle. The respect for the House of Slytherin was definitely going to take a hit from this debacle.

The Baron, meanwhile, didn't seem to care about the audience. Instead, he twirled in his dress, the skirt lifting up in the breeze, showing off the legs of the Myrtle suit, singing softly to himself about how pretty he was.

Myrtle didn't seem to mind the Baron wearing her suit that shaped him to look just like her. If anything she seemed amused at the Baron's actions. Leaning over to Draco, she whispered. "Don't you think my legs look lovely when he twirls like that?"

If there was a pantomiming contest ever held at Hogwarts, Draco would have won for his impression of a terrified fish trying to swim backwards.

Hermione was the first to seem to come to her senses. "Myrtle, could you explain why the Bloody Baron is, um, traipsing around in your… your Myrtle suit?"

Harry and even Luna snapped out of their stupor hoping to hear the answer.

"It's something I learned from the Grey Lady, you'd also know her as Helena Ravenclaw, the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw. You may have heard that she had run off from Hogwarts at some point and that the Baron went after her. Most people think he went after her to bring her back to see her dying mother. That was not his intention, however. You see the Baron has this… I think you would call it a fetish. Anyway, he liked to take hairs from beautiful women to use in polyjuice potion in order to dress up, and, well, dance about like he is now."

The Bloody Baron was now walking down the hall as if he were a runway model displaying the dress he wore for all to see. Near the end of the hall, he twirled about fetchingly, and then began skipping back toward them while humming '_I'm so pretty_'.

"Tha's not a sight you see ever'day," Hagrid murmured, while '_Snuffles_' seemed to have some kind of canine laughing attack.

"I think I am going to let him keep it," murmured Luna.

"What was that?" Harry asked, glad for a diversion.

"My dress that he is wearing. I don't know where he found it. It's been missing since before Halloween. But I think it looks better on him than it does on me, don't you think?"

At that point Harry couldn't think, and neither could anyone else for that matter. It wasn't until the Bloody Baron had left to go back to the mirror-filled room he had been haunting that those in the hall began to shake off what they had just witnessed.

No one was up for anymore arguing, so Harry led the group into Myrtle's bathroom, and then used his Parselmouth abilities to open the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. The Dwarves Harry had hired to do repairs on the tunnel had let Harry know that there was another bit of enchantment on the tunnel that turned the sides of the tunnel into spiraling steps going downwards. As the last of the people descended, Hermione came last and spoke Parseltongue to close the sink over the entrance.

Ten minutes later, Albus Dumbledore walked into the bathroom looking for everyone as he was trying to make a spectacular late entrance so that everyone could focus on him. Not seeing anyone, he determined that Harry must have realized the intelligence of Dumbledore's advice to not do this event, and that the message for the cancelation had just not reached him.

How wrong he was.

¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´¯`

**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_Hey there, everyone! Hope you enjoy this chapter! _

_Ron is still rebuilding his friendship with Harry and Hermione, but it's getting there. He still has some growing up to do. We all did at that age, right? Friends forgive, but it's easier to forgive a friend who is trying to not repeat the same thing that caused the problem in the first place. Ron is basically a work in progress for this story. In many ways so is Dudley, but he has help with the Sorting Hat._

_I've covered a lot of information in this chapter, and that had to be done since I moved the story forward a couple of weeks_

_Yes, Petunia is trying to make things work with Vernon. I think that is a stupid thing, too, but I have known so many women who have left their abusive husbands only to turn around and go right back to the bastards. It really ticks me off. Especially if they have kids. So I think it is a fair representation of what Petunia would do, letting Vernon stay in her life. At least for now. _

_Sorry. That was my soapbox. I just can't stand abuse. _

_Please take a moment for a review, and thanks!_


	17. Chapter 17

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts **

By Ordinaryguy2

Chapter 17

Harry waited at the beginning of the tunnel until Hermione told him the last of the students had come down the stairs. "Okay, everyone, this is the spot where Ron, Lockhart and I landed when we slid down the pipe." He blushed slightly before going on to explain. "In our hurry to get down here to rescue Ginny, we hadn't thought to check to see if there was a stairs option available to us."

"Typical Gryffindor," muttered Snape, causing Draco to snort and several low laughs from the Slytherins and a few other students.

"Hey! We tested it! We pushed that lying, coward Lockhart down ahead of us!" Ron practically shouted in the cavern, his yell echoing off the walls.

"Are you saying that you risked the life of a teacher by throwing him down a pipe leading to the Chamber of Secrets?" Snape said with a cat-ate-the-canary grin, liking the possibility of getting dirt that could get them in trouble.

"We heard all you teachers telling him that he should go rescue Ginny since he had said the day before that he knew how to get into the Chamber of Secrets, and that he was a big-time hero, as well as the fact that he was the Defense Against The Dark Arts professor! And when Harry and I went to tell him that we had learned what Slytherin's monster was, we found him hurriedly packing his junk to flee Hogwarts. And when caught, he tried to _obliviate_ us! So, yeah, we shoved him down here to make sure it was safe and the basilisk wasn't waiting for us at the bottom! Even then, when we found a snake skin of the basilisk, the git pretended to faint, and then used that opportunity to steal my wand from me!"

"Your wand?" drawled Snape. "Ah, I'm guessing that's how he ended up in the Janus Thickey Long-Term Care Ward at St. Mungo's."

"Yes." Harry stepped in before Ron could erupt any further. "It was near where I'm standing now that Gilderoy Lockhart delighted in telling us how he was going to _obliviate_ us until there was no thoughts left in our head, then come up and fraudulently tell everyone that Ron and I '_tragically_' lost our minds at the sight of Ginny's mangled body. But as you pointed out, professor, Ron's wand was broken, and was only being held together with Spello-tape. So when Lockhart tried to cast an overpowered _obliviate_ at us, it rebounded on him, sending him flying back into the cave wall, which started an avalanche, trapping Ron and Lockhart on this side, and me on the other."

" 'Arry, why are there piles of small animal bones over in the corner?"

Harry nodded slightly to Fleur, thanking her for refocusing everyone's attention somewhere else. He moved past several people to the corner the French student had indicated. "When Ron and I -and of course Lockhart- fell into this area, the floor was covered in the skeletons of rats and bats and a few other cave dwelling animals. When I brought the Dwarves here to repair the ceiling, I had begun banishing the small bones from underfoot. One of the Dwarf workers stopped me, pointing out that the bones had all come after being digested inside the basilisk, and that they might be able to be used to make new potions."

Snape, having slowly followed after Harry when he walked over to the corner, raised a critical eye at this idea. "Not very likely. And even if some of the gastric juices of the basilisk were trapped inside these bones, the vitality of them would have diminished over the time they lay here collecting grime from this tunnel."

Harry grinned. "That's what I said. But the worker, Djion is his name, said that the bones themselves would have been tainted by the gastric juices and would be viable much longer. So I let him take half the bones for someone in his family who likes to try his hand at crafting potions to see if he could do anything with it and kept half in case you wanted to try your hand at creating something with them."

Snape's left eye twitched. "And did this Dwarf's relative find these castoff bones useful in crafting?"

A grin spread across Harry's face. "So far he's made two that are marketable. The one made with rat bones can be used for helping older people with brittle bones, making them stronger. The potion using the wings of a bat skeleton can be used as numbing agent for those recovering from nerve damage, like those that have undergone the Cruciatus Curse."

"From a lowly crafter, highly unlikely," Snape snorted in disdain. Draco, standing by his godfather's side, added his own sneer to the mix.

"You're wrong, professor," Hermione spoke up as she came to stand next to Harry. "The potions have been tested, and St. Mungo's has already put in requests for the potions. In fact, the Dwarves have asked Harry to search for more of the skeletons in order to manufacture more of them."

"I've already had much of the Chamber searched, and sent more off to be made into potions," Harry added. "Plus, the Dwarf potions master, Amborose Sandyonyx is his name, has also sent a letter with a friendly challenge to you, professor. As I understand it, it's basically just to see which of you two could find the most uses for the bones as well as who would find the best use."

Draco was as red-faced as a ticked off Weasley matron. "You dare to compare the skill of some Dwarf potion maker to that of-"

"Shut it, Mr. Malfoy!"

Students gaped as they stared in disbelief at having witnessed the Head of the House of Slytherin telling his most favored student to shut up. Draco himself seemed to be on the verge of a sputtering fit.

"Amborose Sandyonyx, while not known by many in the Wizarding world, is a renowned **potions master** to those who are involved in that field," explained Snape, sharply. "He is by no means a lowly dabbler at the craft. By Sandyonyx extending this challenge to me is likened to one chess master inviting another chess master to a game." Snape bent down on his knees to examine the large pile of small bones much closer, poking some aside with his wand. "I have taken a part in twelve challenges in all years as a potions master, almost all from potion masters in other parts of the world. Of those twelve challenges, I have only won five of those competitions."

"Only five?" Draco's words somehow made it through his lips sounding as if someone was strangling him even though no one touched him. "But-but-but…"

Snape shook his head as if somewhat amused and bewildered at trying to explain something that should be very simple to the spoiled teen. "Perhaps chess was the wrong analogy to use. When such challenges are played by potions masters like Sandyonyx and myself, we both win. As does everyone that benefits from our creations. Technically, in the competition, one potion will usually outshine the others, and that is how a '_win_' is determined."

A slight frown began to form on Draco's face as well as a few other students. Competing with those that several of the pure-blood wizards and witches consider to be inferior beings, or in some cases infesting pests, was not a welcome idea and went against how he was brought up.

Snape looked down his nose at his godson. "In fact your very life -as well as that of your mother- was saved from an early demise thanks to a potion derived from the very first challenge I set into motion."

"You won when your potion saved me and mum?" Draco asked in a quiet, shocked voice, not having heard that story, only having been told that his parents couldn't give him another sibling.

An amused look crossed the potions master's face. "You assume that I won on my very first challenge?" He allowed a small laugh to escape his lips. "No, I only technically won on my fourth challenge. But that is beside the point. The challenge was to use hawthorn pollen and mandrakes as part of the ingredients for new potions. The person I challenged was Potions Mistress Selena Creighton. She included the use of the heart of a rare sea slug as well as a moon flower found growing in a fairy circle, along with several normal ingredients, all used to settle down a witch's pregnancy and greatly reduce hyperemesis problems. When I heard of your mother's problems nearly two years later, I contacted Potions Mistress Creighton at once. Even then it was a very near thing; your mother was almost too far gone to save. Fortunately, the potion Potions Mistress Creighton had your mother almost back to normal in four days."

Penelope Clearwater, standing with her Ravenclaw housemates, raised a tentative hand.

"Yes, Miss Clearwater?"

"Um, I correspond with several masters of their art by owl, so I-I was wondering if the Selena Creighton you are referring to… is she a vampire?"

"Indeed she is," he answered stonily.

The air pressure in the tunnel changed noticeably due to the number of sudden deep gasps.

"You… you let my mother partake of a potion made by a **VAMPIRE**?! Are you mentally deficient?!"

"Ten points from Slytherin as well as detention, tonight with me right after dinner," Snape said, looking only mildly perturbed. "You will be helping me separate these bones into the appropriate piles. By hand. So don't wear anything you wouldn't mind getting… grubby."

While there were a few chuckles throughout the body of students, Ron was the only rolling on the floor, laughing himself spare.

"You now have detention with me as well, Mr. Weasley. And five points from Gryffindor. I doubt that will have to worry about your clothing, though."

The detention quickly sobered Ron up, leaving him red-faced as he got off the floor. The redhead looked to Harry to cancel the detention he had just got since he was now Lord Slytherin, and started to fume where he realized that Harry was going to let the detention stand.

Snape was ignoring the Weasley prat, and was instead addressing his godson and anyone else that chose to listen. "You should know that potions masters do not consider other potions masters in the same way others would. We don't even see each other as opponents, at least not like those in quidditch would. Instead, it is more of challenging ourselves, as well as learning from our competitor. It is a form of brotherhood that far transcends things like what House you had while attending Hogwarts. Or what your family name is. Your blood status. Or even what nationality or species you belong to. In my years since graduating Hogwarts and becoming a potions master, I have four hundred and twenty-one patents on potions that I have created. One hundred and thirty-three of them are due to me applying myself at these contests between potions masters. These creations of ours all range from simple hair products to lifesaving miracles-in-a-bottle. My best works have always come from these challenges just as it has with the other potions masters."

Harry and Hermione stood there quietly, neither having heard their potions professor talking so devotedly to his profession as a potions master since his opening speech in their first class with them.

Snape called for a house-elf to come to him, and was surprised that none did.

"Sorry, professor," Harry spoke up. "The house-elves can only come down to the Chamber of Secrets when I allow them. It has something to do with being the Heir of Slytherin. It's a good bet that Salazar himself set it up that way. I think that is also why the ghost can't come down here." Harry called for two house-elves and he directed them to Snape for the delivering of the pile of bones to his lab.

As they started to move on into the large tunnel, Harry pointed out how the Dwarves had braced the ceiling to stop any further cave-ins for the next millennia. Harry again waited at the first doorway that resembled the door to a large bank vault, except for the snake locks. He had let Professor Snape have time to do a cursory examination while explaining some of what he had learned about them.

"Professor Flitwick has already examined it, taking copious notes. Perhaps you would like to consult with him later about the door, yeah?"

"You've already had Professor Flitwick down here, but you didn't invite me, the Head of the House of Slytherin?" his tone hard and biting, matching his scowl.

Harry held back as much of his grin as he could. "He asked."

With that, Harry commanded the door to open in Parseltongue.

Snape, Penelope Clearwater, and quite a few other students from the various Houses or the visiting schools, all looked longingly at the door, wishing to stay and study this magical relic longer, but the opening doorway into the Chamber of Secrets beckoned with the promise of even greater wonders. The next door they came to Harry simply told to open and they moved on past it.

As they entered into the main chamber of the fabled Chamber of Secrets, those in back spread out as the massive dimly lit stone hall while shadows canvased the chamber with an odd, greenish gloom providing the only light. Stone pillars entwined with large serpents stretched up into the ebony that hid the ceiling.

From the far wall, walking out of the gloom, came a cloaked figure. Everyone held their breath as the unknown person came towards them, the footfalls of his steps echoing off the walls.

"Is that Salazar Slytherin?" the whispering voice of Marcus Flint could be heard asking.

"That's not possible, you idiot! He's been dead for a thousand years!" snarled Draco, barely able to keep his voice at a whisper.

"Then it's his ghost?" Marcus asked, affirming why he'd been held back an extra year to the rest of his classmates.

"Please don't talk," Draco whined, rolling his eyes at Flint's stupidity. Fortunately, Draco was used to dealing with stupidity due to his constant contact with Crabbe and Goyle, but at least Flint was nowhere near the level of stupidity as those two.

The hooded person stopped fifteen feet away from the group. Snape and several others had their wands in hand ready for any attack that may come. As it was, several people jumped when the hood snapped back to reveal a grinning redheaded young man.

"Welcome one and all to that legendary hole-in-the-ground! That cavity deep in the bowels of Hogwarts! That habitat of the greatest of monsters! Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets!"

Charlie Weasley's bright toothy grin brought memories of Gilderoy Lockhart back to the Hogwarts students. Though many chuckled at the prank played by Charlie, there were still several on edge who were gritting their teeth. Several wished they had fired their wand at him when they had the opportunity to blame it on being surprised. The Sorting Hat, though, was laughing so hard it was almost fell off of Dudley's head.

Harry stepped forward to shake Charlie's hand. "Hey there, Charlie. How are things down here?"

"Can't complain. A bit lonely at times, but fortunately I've a few friends coming by the day after tomorrow to lend a hand."

"Would one of those be a girlfriend?" Harry asked, cheekily.

"I may have suggested to Natasha that it would be nice to see her," Charlie admitted. "When I came over with the other dragon handlers for the Tournament, she had stayed behind to watch over a nesting mother that's a favorite of hers."

Severus had heard more than enough. "You've had a dragon handler down here this whole time, Potter?" Snape snapped.

"Who else better to look after the nesting dragons?" came a familiar voice from out of the darkness. A merry Professor Flitwick canceled his disillusionment on himself so that he could be seen by everyone.

Snape was instantly jealous of all the time Filius Flitwick had already been down here. How many secrets and wonders had the little man uncover before Severus had had a chance to even step down here. "How did you get Potter to let you down here?" he barked accusatorily.

The part Goblin teacher regarded his teaching colleague with a humorous look and a shrug. "I asked." He laughed at the look on Snape's face. "Oh, don't be a sourpuss! Wait till you see what I've discovered! Oh ho! You'll love it!"

"Alright, everyone, hold on right where you are for a moment so I can tell you lot the rules," Harry said louder so that the whole group could hear him.

"Why should we listen to you?" retorted Draco. "We are already down here. We don't need to listen to you any longer!"

Harry gave a bit of a shrug. "I just thought you wouldn't want to accidently wander into where the dragons have their nests."

The students, who had been slowly spreading out to explore, all froze as if petrified. Then as if they all had been attached together by elastic bands, the students rushed back together in a clump, all scouring the darkness for anything that might attack them.

"What's the length of the chain you have them shackled with?" someone asked out of the crowd, trying to sound braver than they felt.

"Chain?" Harry asked, innocently. "Why would I chain dragons down here with all this space for them to roam?"

"Harry, don't tease them!" admonished Hermione. She then focused her attention back to the nervous crowd of students. "As you know Harry, and now I, are Parselmouths. Therefore we can speak to the three dragons that were brought down here. After talking to them, the dragons have agreed to allow you all to examine the Chamber of Secrets as long as you don't go near them or their nests."

"Go near them? We can't even see them!" someone cried out, their voice laced with fear. "For all we know we would be walking right into their gaping maw!"

"I'll fix that in just a moment." Hermione then pointed her wand at her throat and applied the Amplifying Charm to her voice. The cavern was soon filled with the sound of Hermione speaking parseltongue.

There was an answering roar from the far end of the massive chamber along with a burst of flame that shot up into the ceiling of darkness, illuminating it briefly, giving everyone a quick glimpse at the towering statue of Salazar Slytherin.

"Sorry, everyone," Harry said, holding his hands up to have them focus their attention on him. "It wasn't Hermione intension to alarm anyone. She was just letting the dragons know we were going to increase the lighting in here so we can all get a better look at the place."

Though no one said anything, several people did nod to wanting more lights as the _Lumos_ spell on their wands did not give sufficient illumination in such a large area.

The lights grew steadily over a few seconds until it was nearly as bright as day in the cavern. Most everyone's attention was caught up looking at the bearded statue of Salazar Slytherin.

"Why do ya 'ave areas roped off fer?" Hagrid stood a little off to himself with only '_Snuffles_' on a leash and Luna Lovegood for company. Yellow and black caution tape was blocking access to one end of the chamber. There were also some sections near the walls that had tape around them.

"Ah yes, yes, we should cover that first," Flitwick said, nodding happily. He dashed over to where the middle of the longest stretch of caution tape was blocking off the far wall. "This one is the most easily explained. After negotiating with the dragons, we have been able to guarantee your safety down here as long as you stay on this side of the caution tape. However, if you cross it, well-" He padded around his pockets for a moment before bringing out a toothpick and a small rectangular piece of paper. First he transfigured the toothpick so that it became a signpost. Then he tapped the piece of paper twice with his wand to enlarge it before sticking it in place on the signpost.

The students gathered around to read '_Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup_.'

Luna squealed in delight. "Thank you for using my poster, professor!"

"It was too brilliant to pass up, Ms. Lovegood," the Head of Ravenclaw cheerily replied.

"What's ketchup?" a Hufflepuff pure-blood could be heard asking.

"I believe," began Flitwick, "that it is a poor Muggle version of tartar sauce, only red in appearance. Though I do find it to be rather tangy and good for dipping chips into."

There were murmurs of dissention. First from the pure-bloods mocking the muggle version of tartar sauce, and from the muggle-borns who insisted that ketchup and tartar sauce were nothing alike.

"We've gone a bit off subject," remarked the Ravenclaw Head of House. "Please look about. I will be pointing out certain features and enchanted sections of the wall in about an hour or two from now. Please stay away from the areas clearly marked with the caution tape. Also, though I shouldn't have to say it, there should be no pranking or fighting down here. Respect this place. This is an incredible historical landmark. There is a lot we can learn here so don't damage anything. Also, I really shouldn't have to say this, but don't do anything to irritate the dragons, as you would not only be endangering your life, but the lives of everyone else down here. Now off you go."

Slowly small groups broke away from the mass, mostly spreading in the direction that was opposite to where the dragons were. Hagrid was not in those groups.

"Are ya sure we cannot git a closer look at the dragons? I've never seen one resting on their nest before. I don't count the First Task, as tha' was hardly ideal condition of seein' 'em in an envir'nment of their chosin', ya know?"

"Maybe another time," Hermione said, coming to Harry's rescue. "The dragons are already tense with all these people so close to their nests. And all that after what they went through during the First Task. How about in next weekend? You could help Charlie down here for a day."

"Yeah, Hagrid," Charlie said, chum-like. "You could help me feed the dragons, and remove the dung. Plus, I've been collecting some loose scales here and there down here. It's been something like a treasure hunt, you know? I think I've even found some relics. Just some old chains and a rusty knife so far, but I've been thinking of calling Bill in to do a more thorough job. What do you think?"

"Yer brother Bill? Ain't he off somewheres doin' work fer Gringotts?"

"Egypt from the last line he dropped to me." He began studying the dog Hagrid had on a leash, and then backed up slowly. "Um, Hagrid, is that by chance a Grim you have there?"

"Eh, Snuffles?" Hagrid reached down and scratched the black dog behind the ears and nearly knocking Sirius over. " e's actually only part Grim. 'arry and 'ermione got 'em fer me. e's a very good dog. And I've not 'ad a single problem with 'im since he came 'ere."

"So, uh, Snuffles here, he isn't, uh, ominous then? I mean, he doesn't bring death to those that see him watching them?" Charlie asked.

Hermione hid a laugh under her hand, while Harry had to turn away because he couldn't keep a grin from his face. Charlie, thinking he might be being had, glanced down at Snuffles and would have sworn that the bony dog winked at him.

"Naw, Snuffles 'ere is a pussycat."

'_Snuffles_' looked up at Hagrid as if the half-giant had severely wounded him. Deciding to do something about it, Snuffles went to the end of his leash, found his target, and began to stare intently.

It wasn't long before someone notices Snuffles strange behavior and asked about it.

"Hagrid, what's up with your pet?"

Hagrid broke off his conversation when he realized that his half-Grim dog _was_ behaving oddly. As they continued to watch, they noticed Snuffles continued to stare directly at one person in particular. That person in particular being Draco Malfoy.

Draco, while not sneering at the moment, still wore the smuggest look he could muster as he traipsed around, making sure to take in as much as possible so that he could send a memory of the entire Chamber of Secrets for his father to later review in the Malfoy family pensieve. Knowing that his father would be watching this, Draco strutted about for all his worth. "Marcus, can you believe how filthy it is down here? Why would any of the Founders, let alone Slytherin himself, subjugate himself to staying down in this musty hole in the ground?"

Marcus grunted. "It's obviously seen better days. Those water markings on the wall show that it has been partially flooded at some point. Perhaps even several times."

Draco blinked. He had been surprised that Marcus had caught that when he himself hadn't.

"Er, yes, that is true. Plus, the area seems to have had quite a few vermin down here."

"Yeah, Potter pointed that out earlier." Marcus stopped to examine three of the Beauxbatons students walking by to consider possibly slipping the love potions burning a hole in his pocket to while Draco continued to move on, annoyed.

Draco thought he noticed something that might be a pattern in the makeup of the ceiling. Pulling a pair of omnioculars from his pocket, he used it to study the ceiling in detail, but if there was some sort of hidden message in the ceiling he wasn't understanding it. Next, he used his omnioculars to look down to the far end of the chamber that they were being blocked from examining. He found the tent that the Weasley dragon handler was using, which affirmed just how stupid the Weasleys were if one of them were willing to live in a tent so close to those savage beasts. Near to the tent was a large pen of a variety of dazed animals –sheep, goats, cows– that seemed to be in some sort of trance. Draco immediately surmised that they were food for the dragons. Looking farther back, there seemed to be large tunnels or alcoves that were partially hidden in shadows. While examining one of those shadows, Draco noticed some slight movement in the darkness which he concluded must be one of the dragons.

He was about to draw everyone's attention to himself by pointing out the location of one of the dragons, when he noticed that nearly everyone's attention was already on him. "What…?"

The growing horror on several of their faces was beginning to alarm him. He hadn't a clue as to what it was about until he noticed someone explaining things to a companion while pointing over in the direction of that big oaf groundskeeper that Dumbledore kept around. The weirdest part was that Hagrid's emaciated black dog was staring directly at him and seemed ready to race and attack the Malfoy heir at a moment's notice. The murmuring was louder now, and Draco was sure that he heard the word '_grim_' spoken several times. Like most of the students at Hogwarts, he had heard the rumors that the groundskeeper had managed to get a half-Grim for a pet. He had doubted the validity of the rumor, but even he had to admit that the skeletal-like frame on the big, black dog gave the rumors some credence.

After that flake of a teacher, Trelawney, had claimed to spot the image of a Grim in Potter's tealeaves, Pansy had researched the creature more thoroughly. One of the older legends that she had recited to him said that the black spectral dogs were drawn to those that were about to die. They would lie in wait, hiding in the shadows, keeping their eyes on the one that was to die. And only at the moment the person died, would they rush forward to sink their cursed teeth into the person's soul, tearing away as much as they could in order to eat, as souls were the only thing the starving supernatural animals could consume.

As Draco stared at the partial Grim, it's eyes seemed to glow with an unearthly light. If the animal's actions were a true indicator, then Draco must be doomed. And if that was the case, then there was only one thing that Draco could do.

"**PROFESSOR SNAAAAAAAPE**!"

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Meanwhile, down a small tunnel that had originated from an illusioned alcove off the main chamber, Professors Snape and Flitwick were examining a rune covered doorway that was on a side wall. The sides of the doorway were marred with scrapes and blast marks left by other parties that had tried to enter.

Severus turned away from the runes for just a moment, his head tilted to one side. "Did you hear something just now?"

"Hmm?" The diminutive professor looked up at Snape. "No, why?"

"It might be one of the students." He reluctantly turned back toward the tunnel they had come down.

"I doubt it. I had put a muffling charm as well as a notice-me-not spell at the entrance. The students should be fine. To insure their safety, I left a charmed coin with Lord Slytherin to call us in the event of an emergency."

Severus gnashed his teeth at hearing the Potter brat referred to as Lord Slytherin, but chose instead of breaking out in a bout of cussing that could make Flitwick decide to close this venture, to focusing on the enchanted relic in front of him.

"Has Potter seen this?" he asked, refusing to acknowledge the boy's lordship.

"Not yet, though I did tell him that I had discovered it. It was too close to the time when he was to escort the students down here, so he is planning to come back sometime after dinner tonight to see what we learn."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "You told him you were going to be bringing me in here?"

The half-Golbin professor nodded. "Yes, yes, he said you and I were the ideal candidates to bypassing Slytherin's security system. Of course he did say that if it looked like something needed to be done by a parselmouth, to come and get him immediately."

The potions professor stilled for a moment, but could find no fault with Potter's logic. The runes inscribed about doorway seemed to be backwards, and seemed to indicate that that was the way to go.

"We're missing something." Flitwick's eyes flew over the reversed runes in search of a clue. "The reversed runes are at least part of the key."

"Yes, annoying, too. You almost need a mirror to read them."

"Ahhh! Yes, that should be it!"

Snape raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Are you saying we need to get a mirror?"

"Not exactly. There's a spell. It is not exactly well known, well, at least not in this day and age, but it was known in the time of the four Founders. Rowena Ravenclaw had created a spell that would make any surface a mirror."

"So we need to use her spell to make a mirror?" Snape looked unconvinced. "And what surface would we use for the mirrors?" He looked back at the runes of the doorway for any hint of a key.

"Look how the doorway is placed, Severus. We are at the end of a tunnel, and yet this doorway was not straight ahead of us when we walked down here, but to the side."

Snape looked at the doorway and then to the wall of the tunnel just opposite of it. "This wall?"

"Yes indeed!" Flitwick was practically dancing now, he was so excited. Seconds later he cast Rowen's ancient spell, causing the wall to become a large mirror.

Both men quietly studied the mirrored image carefully, Snape stoically while Filius traced the images of the runes in the air with his finger.

"It seems to be still stressing the term '_backwards_'. Is that what you make of it, Severus?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure how it will let us open the door."

"The part down here seems like it would be relevant. I believe that it translates to mean '_if you wish to go forward, you must go backwards_'. Or something like that. And the rest is something about '_hiding in plain sight_'. I think I may be misunderstanding that part wrong."

Unfortunately for Filius, Snape's attitude was going from bad to worse. "This is ridiculous! I refuse to believe that Salazar Slytherin dabbled in riddles for his security measures!"

Flitwick gave a small shake of his head. While Severus was friendly with Dumbledore to an extent, he had never opened up in friendship with any of his fellow teachers at Hogwarts. Flitwick was the most tolerant of the man due to his thick skin, and it helped that the half-Goblin truly admired the potions master's skill as well as his intellect. And it was due to that that Flitwick hoped that someday Snape would unburden himself of whatever terrible thing that weighs down so hard on the potions master's cantankerous soul. But, whenever that did happen, if ever, it wouldn't be today. Sometimes the simplest things could be the hardest after all.

"I think I want to try something." Flitwick hurried forward to the mirrored image.

Severus stood ready with his wand in case he would have to stop some type of magical trap from lashing out at either of them.

Stopping right in front of the mirrored wall, Filius brought his wand up and touched the top of his head, causing a field of invisibility around himself so that he could not be seen.

"What are you attempting?"

"A test. The refection of myself would have blocked my way, but now…" Filius reached forward to the mirror reflection of the door, fortunately Snape's mirror image was not blocking his view of the door handles when the charms teacher grasped them, and then he pulled.

Both wizards gasped in amazement as the mirror door opened wide, torches on the other side lighting up.

"So the rune doorway was a ruse then," Snape murmured in surprise as he thought of all of Salazar's descendants that had been frustrated when they had not been able to open the doors.

"Salazar was a crafty one, I'll give him that," said the overjoyed Flitwick as the two of them began using their wands to attempt to detect any hidden magical traps. "Fortunately, in some of Rowena's more personal writing that have survived the ages, she repeatedly calls Salazar the master of misdirection."

Snape gave a slight nod of agreement before the two of them stepped inside. And the doors slowly closed behind them.

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_Hey there, everyone. First, I'd like to recommend a great story I found called Guardians of Hogwarts by Soul's Scales. It's not that well known yet as it is categorized as a crossover between Harry Potter and The Guardians of the Galaxy, so it's a new category, too, and not many people have thought to look there. Check it out and review. The characters of the Guardians of the Galaxy movie are all young Earth kids with lives somewhat parallel to the movie, but attached to the Wizarding world. And of course they are all in Harry Potter's year. Read a few chapters and see what you think._

_Ok, now about my story. I am having Harry making some offers of politeness to Snape, because that is just the type of person Harry is. How Snape reacts to this is another matter._

_Sirius's prank stare at Draco, making him think that the Grim was expecting that Draco was going to die shortly and wanted a bite out of his soul just seems like something Sirius would do. I made up the part of the Grim only being able to eat bites of souls that die. Seemed logical to me. Also, Charlie Weasley's prank seemed fitting, too._

_The potions masters brotherhood and friendly competition with each other was just something I thought would be interesting._

_Hopefully I won't take so long with the next posting._


	18. Chapter 18

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts **

By Ordinaryguy2

Chapter 18

**HOGSMEADE**

Vernon was struggling to be on his best behavior as he and his wife walked down High Street of the decrepit town of Hogsmeade, their feet crunching the light snow on the frozen ground. Why these freaks would want to live in such squalor remained a mystery to him. His only assumption was that the foul magic of theirs did something to the freaks' minds making them want to live more primitively. Or maybe it just lowered their intelligence to the point they couldn't function in a more sophisticated world setting. He gave his wife a quick glance, as he hoped that she wouldn't be lower herself to living in these conditions all the time. The whole place was like from a setting hundreds of years ago; only half the building used bricks in their construction, and all used thatch material for roofing.

He was struggling to keep a smile on his face as she brought him into various shops in the little village. He begrudgingly allowed her to buy him a robe at some busy clothing store called _Gladrags_ when they first arrived, though he thought the idea to be stupid. It wasn't like he needed it for warmth, at least not since she had insisted on using a warming spell on them to keep the cold away (That spell seemed sensible at any rate.). Besides, he didn't care that he didn't fit in. He was actually insulted that his wife _did_ want him to fit in with all these freaks. As it was, the robe he wore looked like a tent on him and made him feel ridiculous. Just walking down the rundown village's streets in the getup his wife had purchased for him reminded him of Phillip Johnston, one of the vice-presidents of _Grunnings_. The skinny idiot was always going on about those silly Renaissance festivals he attended with his family.

"This, of course, is one of Dudley's favorite shops here in Hogsmeade."

Vernon looked up at the wooden hanging sign above the shop proclaiming it to be '_Zonko's Joke Shop_'. "Of course it is," he muttered under his breath. Marge's friends had told him plenty of stories of the types of jokes that wizards and witches like to pull, especially on the defenseless family squibs. The candy one of those twin redheaded bastards had left for Dudley to eat – what did they call it? Ton-Tongue Toffee! He and Petunia had been terrified as Dudley's tongue had swollen up to unbelievable proportions, they were sure their darling boy was going to die of asphyxiation from having his air supply cut off, or worse, that they would have to bring Dudley in surgically to have his tongue cut down to size, or maybe removed entirely like they did when that giant of a man bringing Harry's letter had hexed Dudley with a pig's tail! How would they be able to explain that? An extreme allergic reaction? Fortunately, the twin redheaded bastards' father –_was his name Weasel?_– had done something with his magic stick to restore Dudley's tongue. He and Petunia had had to buy several new expensive toys to calm their poor Duddykins down afterwards from all the trauma he had undergone.

It did worry Vernon that his son was starting to appreciate wizarding humor. And Vernon was not liking that one bit.

"Shall we go in? Maybe pick out a present for Dudley?"

Vernon felt a twitch build in his left cheek. "How about something else?" He quickly scanned the street for an alternative to the joke store. A sign naming it's store _Dogweed &amp; Deathcap_ did not sound at all welcoming to him though there was more than a few plants of dubious origin in the front window. There was also a post office of sorts that had several dozen owls squatting around on perches that made him shudder in reminisce of all the school acceptance letters that kept turning up for his nephew. _Ceridwen's Cauldrons_ was also out. As was _Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop_. The book store, _Tomes &amp; Scrolls_, would not have anything that Dudley would be interested in. He didn't know what to make of the shop called _The Magic Neep_. He was about to resign himself to distracting his wife by offering to take her to _Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop_ when he spotted _Honeydukes_, a magical sweet shop.

"Ah, how about there?" He grinned at himself for finding the perfect store even in such a freaky place as this.

"Well…" Petunia gave a hesitant glance at her husband. "Buying sweets for Dudley might be rather counter-productive right now."

Vernon frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Our Dudley's been trying to lose weight, so he's dieting. He's also exercising every morning and some evenings, depending on the weather and amount of homework he has." Seeing her husband start to get angry, she quickly added, "He's doing it for sports. You see, he wants to be in better shape so he can try out next year for his house's sports team."

He reluctantly nodded to that. He understood the need to excel in sports. He'd had to do some reducing at that age to participate in wrestling. Later, he switched to boxing since his weight wasn't as much a factor in that sport and he'd been allowed to eat more. "So, the fr-… er, magicals, they haven't come up with a workable weight reducing spell?"

There had been a slight twitch in her eye when her husband had almost said the word '_freaks_'. She knew Vernon was trying to accept how things were for her now, and that he loved her and Dudley in spite to the sudden change in their family with both her and Dudley having been revealed to be magical like her nephew, Harry. She knew that he didn't see her and Dudley that way, so she was using that as a means for him to come to terms with the fact that the wizarding world was not a bad thing. He was going to have to accept that she and Dudley were magical now if they were going to remain together.

"There are potions and some spells that could reduce weight in a person rather quickly," she admitted. "As the problem has been explained to me by the Hogwarts med-witch, Madam Pomfrey, many young wizards and witches have their metabolism tied into growing their magical core. If we used a potion or spell to curb Dudley's metabolism, it could be detrimental to his health as his body would try to compensate."

That didn't sound good to Vernon. "But if he is dieting…?"

"He's being carefully monitored by Madam Pomfrey. She assures me that his metabolism and magical core growth rate are at acceptable levels."

Vernon grunted in acknowledgment, the whole matter leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

Sensing her husband's mood, she chose to lead him into the _Three Broomsticks Inn_. "Let's go in and get a drink. I hear they have a wonderful shepherd's pie they serve for lunch, too."

He allowed himself to be led into the inn, not surprised at it's rustic interior, or it's dim lighting due to only using candles, the fireplace and a few well-placed torches for lighting.

Most of the people inside were students from Hogwarts, who chose to spend some time in the inn to get a bite to eat as well as warm up before getting on to the rest of their shopping. At a few of the tables, some of the magical parents were using the Hogsmeade weekend to visit with their school aged children.

Madam Rosmerta welcomed the two new patrons, quickly leading them to a newly vacated table in one of the corners. She flicked her wand, thus clearing the table. Petunia just as quickly gave Rosemerta their orders. With another flick of her wand, Rosemerta had two shepherd's pies and two flagons of their drinks levitate over to them.

"Quick service," Vernon admitted as he watched Rosemerta walk back to the entrance to welcome a trio of third-year students.

He was just about to take a bite of his shepherd's pie when a man approached their table. "Vernon? Vernon Dursley, is that you?"

Vernon was about to snap at the robed intruder, when he suddenly recognized him, causing him to drop his fork.

"Phillip Johnston? What? What? How?" Vernon's mind struggled to comprehend what his mind was telling him. Phillip Johnston was one of _Grunnings_ top vice-presidents. An enthusiastic go-getter who was just a few years junior to him.

Phillip Johnston attention had already turned to Vernon's wife. "Merlin's beard! You're Petunia Dursley! I've read about you! You are the recently discovered heir of Ravenclaw!" Phillip rounded back to Vernon. "I didn't know you had a magical family, Vernon. Ha! But then you didn't know I had one either, isn't that right, old boy!"

Numbly, Vernon nodded. Taking a napkin, he dabbed at his brow that was suddenly breaking out into a sweat. Phillip, turned away, just before pulling a wand and magically summoning a chair over to him.

"I think my family will permit me a few moments," Phillip said quietly before waving his wand again, which seemed to cause the noise of the inn. "I thought a privacy ward would be beneficial to our conversing," he said with a grin.

"Yes, thank you," Petunia responded, thinking she had seen Johnston a few times in passing at various company family gathering. He seemed nice enough, though Vernon had grumbled a bit on occasion on how the man seemed to be rather lucky at sales, so much so that he passed by Vernon to become one of the younger vice-presidents at _Grunnings_.

"I didn't realize you were a magical," Phillip went on to say.

"He's not; but I and our son are," Petunia answered, hoping she was giving her husband enough time to recover from his shock.

"Ah, yes, now that you mention it, one of _The Prophet_ articles I read mentioned that," he said, with a nod. "But I know better than to rely on the information found in that rag of a paper. It contains more half-truths and lies than it does any truth." He then hesitated for a moment. "I hope you don't mind, but could you confirm one thing for me?"

She nodded, surprised at how upfront the man was.

"Are you also the aunt to Harry Potter?"

Her eyes widened a little at this, her eyes glancing slightly to her husband to see his state before answering. "Yes, his mother, Lily, was my sister."

Phillip was chuckling again as he leaned back into his chair and shook his head. "It is a small world after all, isn't it?"

"What are you doing here, Johnston?" Vernon blustered, trying to not blow up at the man, but still upset that he hadn't realized this co-worker of his had a connection to the wizarding world.

"Ah, you mean other than using the Hogsmeade weekend as an excuse to see two of my children while they attend Hogwarts?"

"It is unfair that the parents of muggle-borns don't have the same opportunity to come here to see their kids as you can." Petunia knew how much her own parents would have wanted to even see the castle, even if it had been from the distance of Hogsmeade. Instead they had had to rely solely on what they were told in letters being delivered by owls.

"Yes," Phillip admitted. "I can remember coming here on my Hogsmeade weekends, being jealous of my classmates, several of whom had parents in the wizarding world wanting to greet them. Which is why I always try to make a show to be here for my kids."

"And that's the only reason?" Vernon asked, dubiously.

"Vernon!" Petunia was scandalized by her husband's question.

Not that that bothered Johnston any. In fact it had him laughing.

"Well, now that you mention it," he began. "Later on I am meeting with several muggle-borns that will be graduating next year."

"Oh? What for?" Petunia could see some of the puzzle that was this man. Just the same, it didn't surprise her that her husband found him to be annoying.

"Well," he began, "while it isn't spoken of much, it's a known fact that muggle-borns, even those the top of their year in school, are most often passed over when trying to get a career going, especially if that career is in the ministry."

"That's that's… outrageous!"

"Not according to the pure-bloods," he responded. "So, back in 1953, a group of muggle-borns decided enough was enough. They pooled their resources and created an organization called _The Foundation_. For the most part it was to set up several companies in the muggle world, all while hiring the best of the muggle-borns that graduate from Hogwarts."

Vernon looked at him in alarm. "Are you saying _Grunnings_ is one of those companies?"

"Vernon, you should know your company's history better, old chap. _Grunnings_ was founded in 1903, remember?"

Vernon let out a sigh of relief and dabbed his forehead again with a napkin.

"Nope," Phillip went on. "_The Foundation_ bought _Grunnings_ in the early 70s."

Seeing her husband flounder at coming up with a calm response, she moved to fill in the gape in the conversation. "Why would your organization want to buy _Grunnings_? Other than management, is there another magical component to the drill manufacturing?"

"Oh, there are a small part of _Grunnings_ that makes magically-reinforced drills of various sizes, but it is a rather small part of the company's income. No, you see, _Grunnings _was actually obtained due to a suggestion of the Goblins, or more specifically the _Gringgots_ _Bank_. One of the bank's more lucrative business ventures is tomb robbing. Places like Egypt, China, India, the Amazon rainforest, and the Middle East. Plundering crypts is dangerous business; quite difficult to get past all the magical defenses. But the thing about millennia old wards protecting such places, several of those wards will only respond to a magical signature. That being the case, a specially designed, extendable, non-magical Muggle drill can get through and directed to the point where it can reach where the runes are located, and quite literally start punching holes through whatever ward it was enforcing. Saves the lives of quite a few curse-breakers that way as well as reducing the overall cost of the venture."

"How would you even know you are aiming the drill correctly?" she asked.

"Depends on the wards setup. Most times someone using a magical eye enhancement can guide it. But if the ward scheme blocks the use of a magical eye, we have to get creative. Usually that means using an extendable periscope-like device that can follow alongside the drill bit. Tricky business, too, as we have to get every drilled hole large enough to accommodate the extensions to the drill as well as the periscope tube."

"The Madrid contract," Vernon murmured.

"Yes!" Phillip nodded happily. "That was one of the few times I got to handle one of the periscope and drill contracts. Usually it's Stantz or Spengler that handle those, but they were swamped handling other deals."

"I wondered why they didn't give me that contract," Vernon said grumpily.

"Well, once upper management knows that you are in the know about the magical community, they can train in handling such jobs. It can be rather frustrating as more than likely it'll take destroying several prototypes before you can modify the exact one you need to get to where you can destroy the runes. The Madrid job took over twenty models before getting through all the way."

"I'm not sure I'd want to do that," Vernon admitted grumpily.

Phillip nodded. "I know what you mean. While a job like that is challenging, it's also frustrating as hell. Trying to keep the costs down on a job like that is damn near impossible. Dealing with the Goblins is no picnic either, especially when you are trying to explain the reason for all the expenses."

Vernon flinched at that. His wife had told him some of what the Goblins were like and he had found the very thought of them disturbing. How the fr-, er, magicals have such spiteful creatures handle their money for them is beyond him.

After a while Johnston did excuse himself so that he could rejoin his family, Petunia used that moment to use the ladies' restroom, which allowed Vernon a moment to himself to think of the situation he was in.

First and foremost, his wife and son were now a part of this fre-… magical world. There was no denying it. As much as he wish he had never agreed to have that hook-nosed freak Snape to bring them to Hogwarts to see Harry go against a dragon, he couldn't change it from happening, or for the fact that stepping onto the school grounds had somehow released the magic that had been bound within his wife and son.

It had also been revealed that his Petunia was the Heir of one of the Founders of the castle, which meant she was part owner of it. His sister Marge had discovered that some of her contacts were squibs, members of pure-blood families that were born without magic. The squibs were more than a little resentful at how they had been cast aside and were working on plans of revenge, hoping to use Petunia's new station as an Heir to kick the students out of the castle forever. And while Vernon would love to give the wizards and witches a reality check in the real world, he didn't think that Petunia would be willing to go along with something like that. Marge, however, had refused to consider such a factor, and was becoming as thick as thieves with the discontented squibs.

And now there was this whole new twist. Muggle-borns, unhappy with the wizarding world, had been organizing together and running businesses in the real world, including _Grunnings_. And as unhappy as this _Foundation_ was with the pure-bloods in control of their world, Vernon was sure that they would be against Marge's plan to shut down Hogwarts. And that, of course, at the very least would cost him his job.

He took a deep drink of the lager that had shown up at his table sometime when he wasn't looking. "How do I get out of this mess?" he groaned.

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**THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS, SALAZAR SLYTHERIN'S PRIVATE CHAMBERS**

"This is preposterous!" Severus Snape threw the book he'd been reading down with all his might. Seething he looked around this hidden room that he and Filius Flitwick had discovered while the Potter brat gave a tour in the Chamber of Secrets.

Salazar Slytherin had decorated his private rooms in soft earthy colors. Powerful preservation charms had evidently been used in keeping things from aging as well as from allowing mold and mildew from affecting anything. And while there had been numerous signs of vermin in the outer main chamber, especially due to the many skeletons that had been a food source for the basilisk over the centuries, there were no indications of such infestation in Slytherin's private quarters.

The quarters themselves consisted of several rooms. The first room they had entered had been an informal living room/library. And instead of a bedroom, there was a small recess into the wall with a mattress and curtains that took up about as much space as the nearby loo. The large kitchen had numerous rows of spice racks along the walls and various shaped pots and pans hanging overhead. Behind a thick, enforced door was Salazar's personal potions laboratory, with hand drawn maps and formulas all over the wall. Snape had been shocked to see that even the ingredients were still as fresh as the day they had been harvested. The final room had been a spacious greenhouse that had been under a time-stop spell to keep all the plants at their most viable. Snape had not been surprised to see several ripe mandrake plants, as someone who had a basilisk on hand should have the means to restore anyone who had been petrified by the creature; in fact Salazar had created the potion Snape had put together for the students who had run afoul the basilisk two years ago. The underground greenhouse had several species of plants that Snape was unsure of, but a few he believed were extinct plant species that he recognized from books he had read. Flitwick had made immediate plans to show them to Professor Sprout to see if she could determine the best way to grow more of them.

But none of that had to do with the fit that Severus Snape was now throwing. No, the start of that trouble was when Snape had gone to explore the writing desk in the living room/library. Unable to open the drawers of the desk, Snape scrutinized the row of books that Salazar kept there.

The first book title he saw had taken his breath away. '_My Greatest Creations__' by Salazar Slytherin_. He had eagerly started going through the book page by page. At first his reaction was to frown. Then he had started pawing through the book at a faster and faster rate, only stopping every now and then to confirm what he had first seen and finally through the book down with a yell before storming off to the potion's laboratory.

Flitwick waited a minute before going to see what had got Snape into such a state. He noted the title and then began to peruse through the book himself. He just managed to keep from bursting into laughter when he realized that what he had in his hands was a cookbook.

"Oh my!"

He continued looking through the cookbook, spying certain recipes that he considered asking the Hogwarts house-elves to try for dinner some night. He was even more surprised as some familiar Indian, Cantonese, and Chinese recipes were listed. It was only as he was about to close the book when he noted that there was an unusual pattern among the many decorative swirly patterns that went along the border of each page and in-between the various recipes. It took examining several other pages before he realized what it was he was seeing.

Hidden in the patterns was the legendary parselscript! Salazar had hidden his secrets in plain sight! Filius had to bite down on his knuckle to keep from making an exclamation and alerting Snape to his find. No, it would be better to keep this to himself for now. There were only two known people who could converse in parseltongue right now, and the half-Goblin didn't think that the potions professor was going to be willing to hand over a book by Salazar Slytherin entitled '_My Greatest Creations_' to Harry Potter or Hermione Granger. Instead, the charms professor placed the book in his bottomless pouch that he carried with him while chuckling to himself.

An hour later, the two professors had gone through most everything and were finally ready to leave when Flitwick noticed a slight movement near a curtain on the wall.

"Did you check behind that curtain, Severus?"

"What are you talking about? What curtain?" The potions master still as he, too, now noticed the curtain on the wall.

"Must have been a time-sensitive notice-me-not spell on it," murmured the charms professor.

"Possibly," Snape answered, drawing his wand. "Still, we should be careful. Anything could be behind it."

Flitwick had already drawn his wand. "I'll open the curtains, you deal with any threat that presents itself."

Snape gave a short nod as an agreement.

A moment later the drapes were pulled open, and both professors froze as they took in what they saw.

The object of their shock also seemed to be surprised. A large portrait hung on the wall; it's object in the portrait was an older, bald wizard with bushy eyebrows, and a white and gray shaded beard that was seven inches in length and ended in a point. The man was dressed in a black nobleman's gown and had a pasty completion that indicated one who spent most of their time indoors. The eyes were sharp, quick and hard, as was his voice. "Who disturbs my long slumber?"

When neither man answered, the man in the portrait responded with a threatening bark. "Well?

Startled, both men glanced at the other. Snape, realizing the importance of the moment, gave a respective bow to the portrait. "I am Professor Severus Snape, the Head of the House of Slytherin at Hogwarts, beside me is my esteemed colleague, Professor Filius Flitwick, the Head of House of Ravenclaw." He paused as he studied the portrait for a moment. "Now might I ask to whom I am addressing?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "How can you come in here and not know my name? I am Lord Salazar Slytherin, one of the four greatest wizards since the disappearance of Merlin, and also one of the founders of Hogwarts." Seeing the two men trying to accept this, he decided to push his next question. "How long has it been since my passing?"

"Just over a thousand years, m'lord," Flitwick responded.

"A thousand years…? And Hogwarts still stands in all it's glory? A pinnacle of education for wizards and witches in Europe?"

"Eh, well, there has been some decline, I guess," Flitwick admitted while Snape looked like he was sucking a lemon. "The castle itself is still glorious. However…, the number of students have declined over the centuries. Other prestigious schools have risen up to claim some of those numbers. Also various wars, mainly with rising dark lords bent on conquest, have reduced the number of many of the remaining families."

"How many new students arrive each year?" demanded the portrait.

Snape decided to speak up this time. "Since the last war ended about thirteen years ago, we have been averaging just over forty new students every year."

"There must be more witches and wizards being born than that!" insisted the Founder.

Flitwick nodded. "Unfortunately, due to many of the pure-blood families insisting to marry only other pure-bloods, inbreeding has started to show more and more problems such as sterilization or a family line that has children that are squibs or have magical cores that are unable to conduct the amount of magic necessary to attend Hogwarts."

Salazar seemed to reel back in his seat. "Damnation! The castle must be practically abandoned! Nearly nine-tenths of Hogwarts must not be being used! How are there not more? Even the New Magicals should fill up the roster more than that over the centuries!"

"New Magicals?" Flitwick asked.

"Yes, those children from non-magical families that start displaying magic themselves. You still have them, don't you?" he spat, his irritation growing.

"Ah, yes, we call them muggle-borns nowadays." Flitwick nodded, but sensing that the portrait wanted more of an answer. "Yes, I suppose they would account for a good part of the population. Unfortunately, the wizarding world is very prejudice against muggle-borns, especially in England, so much so that many, upon graduating, leave the country and take any other muggle-borns related to them with them." He hung his head low as he thought of some of the students he had lost that way over his many years teaching, the most recent being Sally-Anne Perks, making her new home in New Zealand, now most likely attending the Outback Wizarding school in a unplotted area in Australia thanks to a recommendation he wrote for her.

"Yes, yes, life's not fair," Slytherin waved his hand dismissively. "Now tell me why you are here? And for that matter, how did you get passed Cynthia? One of you two must be a parselmouth to get past her."

"Cynthia?" Flitwick asked nervously.

Salazar's eyes seemed to bore into him. "My guardian. A basilisk that lives in the outer chamber. Surely you must have seen her. After a thousand years, she must be gargantuan!"

"We have seen her," Snape answered coolly. "In a manner of speaking, at least."

"What do you mean?" he inquired hotly. "Have you harmed her?"

"Not us," Snape deflected smoothly.

"As it was explained to us," Flitwick responded quickly, "a dark object from the last dark lord was used to control one of the First Years, commanding the basilisk to attack the students. That was two years ago."

The man in the portrait leaned back in his chair, bringing his hands together to make a steeple. "I see. What… was the damage?"

"One known death and several petrifications," the half-Goblin summarized. "Those that were petrified were eventually cured by a potion that you had a hand in devising."

"Ah, I think I know the one you mean. A creation of one of my teacher's teachers. I did modify it though. And it has most likely been modified more since." The founder took a several slow breaths before asking the question that was most on his mind. "Now what of Cynthia?"

"Dead." Snape ignored Flitwick's motions to stop. "Killed by an arrogant boy who came down here looking to become a hero."

"Rubbish!" expounded Flitwick. "Stop putting all your saved up vitriol for the boy's dead father onto the son! He came down here to save Ginny, who was an innocent pawn! He risked his life to save the girl; not to win glory! He isn't his father! If anything, he is more like his mother! You'd see that if you only opened your eyes!"

"Enough!" shouted the portrait. "Evidently matters are more complicated than can be explained in a simple description of the events." He watched carefully as the two professors start to calm themselves. "If fact, I feel that in order to get an understanding of all that has transpired will be for me to go up and learn of it myself."

"You would allow us to take the portrait up into the castle?" Snape said excitedly. "My House would gladly welcome you in the Slytherin Homeroom, if you would like."

"Or perhaps we could hang your frame in the Great Hall where you would have access to more of the students."

"Nonsense! If I am to go back up to the castle, I will want a body to do so in."

Both professors seemed to be completely lost now.

"A body?" Flitwick squeaked. "I'm not sure I know what type of magic you are referring to."

"Necromancy, of course, but one of the lighter versions if that is what is troubling you."

"Lighter ones? How do you make that distinction?" asked the half-Goblin.

Salazar let out an annoyed sigh. "Because the ritual I will evidently be instructing you to perform needs the living body of a soulless man."

"And how do you suggest we find a soulless man?" inquired Snape, who had been calming his features.

"Why, from any one of those condemned to be food of those soul-eaters that Merlin imprisoned at Azkaban. Surely you know of it."

"You mean the Dementors," concluded Flitwick, as he listened with horrific fascination. "But they are used as guards now."

This amused the man in the portrait. "So the wolves now guard the sheep, eh? There must be a surplus of soulless bodies to choose from then."

"But what would you do with such a body?" asked the Charms professor.

"I would inhabit it. I would make it mine. At least until I returned to my portrait. That is, if I were to return to my portrait."

"I-I don't know if the headmaster will allow that." The half-Goblin glanced over to his colleague, who nodded in agreement.

Snape decided to explain some of the finer parts of the problem to the one who his house was named after. "The current headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, a renowned powerful wizard, is very much against those considered to be dark wizards."

"And I take it he regards me as a dark wizard."

"He does."

"And what of Godric? Is he, too, considered a dark wizard? He probably should since Godric was the one to create the spell in the first place."

Both professors gapped like fish out of water. Snape was trying to bring his occlumency disciplines into play so that he could have a clearer understanding of what all was going on, but each new revelation by Lord Slytherin brought up ended up floundering both Snape and Flitwick.

"Why-why would Godric Gryffindor create such a spell?" Flitwick managed to inquire.

"An act of desperation. To bring back one of his sons from death - Garrick Gryffindor."

"I have never heard of a Garrick Gryffindor," Flitwick said.

Salazar had a smug look on his face. "After transferring Garrick's remaining essence from a portrait into the body of a poor guard that had gotten to close to the Dementors, he couldn't exactly be going around called Garrick Gryffindor anymore, could he?" He let that sink into their minds before continuing. "No, he had to have a new name. Astor Peverell. The Peverell name being the fallen guard's name."

"Peverell? As in Peverell from '_The Tale of the Three Brothers_'? Is that what you mean?" Flitwick squeaked excitedly.

Salazar raised a curious eyebrow. "I do not know what you are referring to, little man."

Before either Flitwick or Snape could respond, two stunners struck them from behind almost simultaneously.

Salazar watched calmly as a grinning man with a horribly scarred face emerged from under an invisibility cloak. The man limped over on a prosthetic leg, before struggling to get to him knees. "My apologies, oh greatest of the Four Founders."

Salazar studied the man for a moment, noting the revolving magical eye. "Rise and explain your actions."

After another struggle, the man was once more upon his feet, but still kept his head bowed.

"You were here the whole time," concluded the portrait.

"Yes, under this invisibility cloak and several high powered notice-me-not spells," admitted the man. "The reason they didn't know to look behind your curtain sooner was I happened to be standing in front of it as they pillaged around your rooms."

The wizened man's eyes narrowed. "And what is your name?"

The craggy-faced man grinned widely. "Currently I wear the likeness of their ally, a dangerous ex-auror by the name of Alastor Moody, but in truth I was born with the name Bartemius Crouch, Jr."

Salazar nodded to this. "I thought I detected the signs of Polyjuice potion in your features. You have been using a considerable amount of it, haven't you?"

"It was necessary, my lord."

Salazar nodded. "And what is it you wish of me?"

"To bring you to my master."

"And who is your master?"

Barty hesitated now, unsure if giving out that information would be acceptable to his master. But the opportunity! The incredible opportunity!

"I serve Lord Voldemort, a descendant of yours, the dark lord who was… killed thirteen years ago, but yet evades death still. My purpose is to restore him back to life completely."

"I see." Lord Slytherin stroked his beard as he considered this change of events. "And how would this benefit me?"

Crouch blinked in surprise. He had expected the portrait of Salazar Slytherin to gladly agree to go to his master and share his wealth of knowledge.

"You have already heard that Dumbledore would be against you," remarked Crouch. "But many would side against him. Not openly anyway."

Salazar said nothing, just waited for Crouch to continue.

"Plus, my master would see you as an equal."

"He has need of what I know," clarified the Founder.

"Err, yes, I have said that," Crouch said. "But my master would have no qualms in supplying you with a body to use."

"Yes, that does seem to be his most appealing quality."

"Plus, there is revenge!"

"Revenge? After a thousand years, who do I need revenge against?"

"The Potter brat! The one who brought down my master! Harry Potter, who was recently awarded your title as Lord Slytherin for beating my master three times! The same one who killed your basilisk! He-"

Salazar held up a hand to pause Crouch before he could continue with his rant. "These two," he casually waved his hand at the two unconscious professors on the floor. "They said that my basilisk was killed by a student."

"That is true, my lord."

"But you also said that this Harry Potter took down your master thirteen years ago."

"That is also true, my lord."

Salazar ran his hand through his beard again. "And how old was this boy when he killed your master?"

Crouch shifted uneasily. "He was little more than one year old, my lord."

"Ah, I see. Or actually I don't. Tell me how did this… toddler take down your dark lord?"

Barty grimaced at that wording, but did not argue it. "No one is sure how… but, the speculation is-"

"What does your master say happened?"

Crouch seemed unhappy to respond, but he did. "After killing the boy's parents, the dark lord fired the killing curse at the boy. But somehow, the curse rebounded off the boy's forehead and struck my master. And the result utterly destroyed his body."

"The boy survived the killing curse? How is that possible?"

"No one knows for sure, my lord, but I am sure my master has some idea of how it came to be."

"And this miraculous boy that Snape seems to detest, did he kill my Cynthia with his magic?"

'_Moody_' shook his head. "No, my lord. I'm told he somehow got his hands on the sword of Gryffindor."

Salazar was now tapping one of his fingers against his chin. "These are indeed interesting times."

"Yes! Yes, they are!" Crouch was grinning like mad now. "So shall I take you to my master?"

"That would be impossible at the moment."

Taken aback, Crouch's face took on a less friendly look. "Why not?"

"Simply this, my portrait cannot leave the confines of Hogwarts. This is one of the reasons I would need a body."

Crouch began to pace in front of the painting, pausing just long enough to kick Snape to one side. He took a quick sip of Polyjuice potion from his hip flask to settle the quivers that were the onset of the return to his own shape. "I could arrange for that, I suppose. It would be tricky."

"The most rewarding things usually are," commented Slytherin.

"I could bring you up to my office. It would get you away from these traitors and half-breeds, and keep you abreast of my progress in getting you what you need."

"And these two?" Salazar indicated the two professors.

"Killing, as much as I'd like to, would probably raise more problems than it's worth. Besides, my master ordered me to avoid killing if at all possible unless he instructs otherwise."

"Then I recommend a memory spell."

Crouch nodded, with an evil grin. "Yes, that would work nicely."

"Not quite. These two are sharp. There must be a reason for their state of unconsciousness."

Crouch nodded. "These are your quarters; what do you recommend?"

The man in the portrait pointed. "Go to my desk."

Once Crouch was standing in front of the desk, Salazar spoke several words in parseltongue. One by one, the drawers of the desk began to slide open.

"In the left bottom drawer is a bottomless bag given to me by Helga Hufflepuff. Collect all the contents of the desk and put it in the bag. Make sure you include my wands."

Over the next ten minutes, Salazar Slytherin had Crouch gather several things from various hidden nooks around his living quarters before he was ready to go. Salazar spoke the key words that unstuck his portrait from the wall, and it was replaced with a painting of a breezy wooden scene with a distant lake in the background. Crouch _obliviated_ their memories of their encounter with the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, then blew up the desk in the room so that it would look like the reason for their being knocked out. Finally, Salazar told Crouch of a hidden exit that was in the far wall of his bed alcove, which they then made use of, leaving Flitwick and Snape to awake alone in confusion.

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Ok, once again I would like to recommend the story '__Guardians of Hogwarts__' by Soul's Scales. Those who have not checked it out should try it out. Those who have read it, recommend it to others._

_So, this chapter we have Vernon hedged in closer, but this time by muggle-born wizards with ties to his work. And we have Snape and Flitwick in Salazar's personal chambers. And the fake 'Moody' makes his first real move in my story. Yea!_

_It's not a cliffhanger, but it is a surprise ending for this chapter! No one saw this coming!_

_Ufda! I am tired, and it is late! Good night everyone! Please send some reviews. Reviews stoke the fires of the writer's creativity._


	19. Chapter 19

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts **

By Ordinaryguy2

**Chapter 19**

_I feel I should explain where I have been going with certain characters, as before in my story I was slowly showing what they were to be like as kind of a suspense thing. Anyway, here it goes:_

_**Dumbledore: **__When he became headmaster, he had to take an oath to try to never have any Heir of the Founders at Hogwarts due to one of the Gaunts and a descendant of Hufflepuff combining their control over Hogwarts to enforce the worst of pure-blood beliefs. When he discovers a witch descendant of Ravenclaw he chooses to bind her core. When Petunia's half-sister, Lily also turns out to be a witch, he allows Lily to come to Hogwarts, but uses some of the control rods that Gellert Grindelwald experimented on people with during World War II to make Petunia reject her sister. When Dumbledore learned of the prophecy, he narrowed done the Chosen One to being either the son of the Potters or the Longbottoms. He doesn't want to set this up, but he felt he had no choice if he was going to save the British Wizarding World. He felt that he had to have control of the Chosen One and that their parents would be in the way. He hid both families under a Fidelius charm and arranged for both secret keepers to be Death Eater spies. Once the parents of Harry were gone, he was sent to Petunia where both he and his aunt started having control rods put in them to modify their behavior. Albus knew that Sirius Black must have been innocent and arranged for him to be sent to Azkaban with no trial so that he couldn't demand custody of Harry as his godfather. He also had the Potters will sealed and had himself named Harry's magical guardian. As much as he wished otherwise, he believed that Harry was going to have to die in order to kill Voldemort as well as for the fact that he was a horcrux. And since Harry was going to die, he thought it sensible to use some of the Potter money to try block many of the political moves of Malfoy and similarly minded pure-bloods. He also used his right as Harry's magical guardian to set up a political marriage contract, but I'm not saying with who just yet. Now that Harry is no longer a horcrux, Albus is beginning to feel guilty about some of his choices, and is worried that it will all be brought out to light. Even worse, with the Sorting Hat proclaiming Harry to be the new Heir of Slytherin due to defeating Voldemort in three life-and-death encounters, now he has two Heirs of the Founders on the Hogwarts grounds, and they have more authority at Hogwarts than he does._

_**Petunia: **__She is descended from Ravenclaw through a squib line on her mother's side. Her mother died shortly after she was born, and thus her father had to get a caretaker for her while he worked. He soon fell in love with the caretaker and married, having Lily Evans as their child. Petunia's core had been secretly bound by Dumbledore who, as a headmaster of Hogwarts, swore to keep Heirs of the Founders from regaining control of the castle since two Heirs agreeing together have absolute control over Hogwarts. Hearing about Hogwarts from her half-sister Lily, Petunia was already jealous of her having magic and going to Hogwarts. Presumably Dumbledore started modifying Petunia with the control rods to distance Petunia from Lily. Later, when Harry was brought to Privat Drive, she was further modified to keep Harry downtrodden so that the headmaster could guide him when he came to Hogwarts. Upon having her magic released, and being freed of the control rods, she began to find her true self. Her core is impaired and weak due to the lengthy time it was bound, but she was still able to get a wand and is striving to learn by attending First Year classes with Dudley._

_**Dudley:**__ Had some brain damage due to being dropped down the stairs as a child. Vernon always felt guilty for that so would try making amends by overly-spoiling him. The Sorting Hat was able to repair, virtually all the damage, but Dudley still has to learn to control his temper and get along with other people. He is trying to be friends with Harry, but it is very awkward due to their history together. Both Dudley and his mother had control rods in their bodies to influence their behavior, until Petunia discovered she had a unique magic talent and removed the rods. Both she and Dudley have had to relearn behaviors._

_**Vernon:**__ Has always hated his nephew, especially his ability to do magic. Now that it has been revealed that his son and wife have magical abilities, he is trying to come to terms with that as he doesn't want to lose either of them. He had stupidly confided in his sister, who realized she had connections with some disgruntled squibs who want to use Petunia's right as an Heir of Hogwarts to take the castle from the Wizarding World. To make things even worse, Vernon soon learns that several muggle-borns own and control the place he is employed as well as several other well-known businesses. It had been explained to him that a majority of muggle-borns are unhappy with their lot in the Wizarding World so they have loosely banded together to create businesses and jobs in the non-Wizarding World. _

**MONDAY MORNING**

**THE GREAT HALL**

"Hey, Scarhead! Take a look at this!"

Draco threw down the newspaper down on the Gryffindor table, nearly knocking over Harry's glass of orange juice.

Harry's eyes crossed over to Hermione who met his look and gave him a reassuring smile. The young couple had come to the conclusion last night that Draco would try for a cheap shot first thing in the morning. Malfoy had not let them down. The fact that the owls had not even arrived yet with the morning newspapers meant that Draco had probably had one of the Malfoy house-elves bring him one so he could flaunt it in front of Harry.

"Ah, lining for Hegwig's cage! Thanks, Drakey!"

"Read. The. Headline," Draco said through grit teeth. Goyle and Crabbe stood just behind Malfoy and cracked their knuckles threateningly. Just beyond them, Harry and Hermione could see Professor Flitwick eyeing the situation to see if he was going to have to step in before there was an altercation.

With slow deliberation, Harry unfolded the paper, laying it out flat.

**STOLEN DRAGONS HOUSED IN CHAMBER OF SECRETS!**

**POTTER HEIR ALLOWING SLYTHERIN LEGACY TO RUIN!**

"Oh look, Harry! They let Draco's article be on the front page! I guess having one's father owning _The Daily Prophet_ has benefits after all," Hermione said in an unusually cheery tone. She then changed to a note of concern "I do hope you proofread everything carefully before you sent this into the editor."

"Are you daring to say that I got my facts wrong, mudbl-" His ability to speak was suddenly hindered by an actual zipper zipping his mouth closed. Most everyone's eyes glanced around, but no sign of a wand could be found.

"Oh, I'm sure most of your facts are wrong as well as from a cruelly slanted viewpoint, Malfoy," she went on, as if nothing at all had happened to him. "It's just that editors find it annoying to correct all the errors in the material they are to print; also, they are notorious for telling others about the constant mistakes their more well-known reporters make."

"I bet the new editor of _The Daily Prophet_ had a doozy of a time with Malfoy's garbage!" commented Seamus Finnigan, who was uncharacteristically early for breakfast. Dean Thomas nodded in agreement as he buttered a bagel.

Harry, meanwhile, was perusing through Draco's article. "Hmm, it says here that '_The newly titled Lord Slytherin has shown great disregard for the historic achievements of Salazar Slytherin, choosing to turn the legendary Chamber of Secrets into a barn for beasts. The once great cavern floors were littered with animal bones. Signs of damage to the great statue of Salazar himself were extremely evident. Truly, this new young lord has little respect for the title he now holds._' Well, that's a bit much, don't you think, Drakey?"

Goyle had been trying to unzip Draco's mouth manually only to be swatted away by Malfoy. Crabbe had gotten the idea to try a spell to remove the zipper, fortunately for Draco he had spotted the wand aiming at him in time to duck. Crabbe's spell flew on, hitting one of the just arriving owls, delivering mail. The struck owl had been suddenly transformed into a chicken that had to flap madly to slow it's descent to the ground, only to land on Pansy Parkinson's head. The shrill scream she let out drew everyone's attention who hadn't already been focused onto their clustered group. The newly minted chicken had it's talons clutched tightly into the girl's hair, squawking for all it was worth while flapping it's non-flying wings.

Professor Flitwick finally had pity on the girl, or maybe it was on the chicken, and cast a finite spell, allowing the chicken to become an owl again. As soon as it did, the owl flew away from the mad castle as fast as it's wings could carry it. Pansy soon made another discover; the bird had left signs of its discontent in the way of small, liquid patches of bird poop in her hair and robes. She shrieked again as she ran out of the Great Hall, and nearly running over some first years.

"Is it just me," began Dean eyeing the air above them, "or are there a lot more owls here than normal?"

"That would be due to the special edition of _The Quibbler_," supplied the dream-like voice of Luna Lovegood as she walked up, taking a seat next to Hermione who had been saving it for her. "It will only have a few articles, and mostly focused on what we all saw down in the Chamber of Secrets."

Draco managed to zip open his mouth, allowing him to speak. "Who in the world would want to pay to read that rag your father puts out?"

"No one has to spend any money to read it," responded Luna, her words seeming to float in the air. "Harry ordered the special edition and has paid for every witch and wizard in England to receive a free copy."

Malfoy glared menacingly at his Gryffindor rival. "You're trying to undermine my story in the paper! Ha! As if anyone were to believe a story concocted in The Quibbler over that of one found in The Daily Prophet! And one written by me, as well! The Malfoy name alone will support my claims! And before you know it, the Wizengamot will take away the Lordship of Slytherin away from you. Hopefully they will reissue it to someone more deserving of that station."

Harry, Hermione, as well as several others at the table started giggling.

"You mean yourself, don't you?" Harry managed to get out.

Draco stood ramrod straight. "My family is among the highest echelons of our society."

"Oh, please," Hermione said, giving a pretended wave of airs. "Your family was kicked out of France for so many heinous crimes it would have probably made Voldemort blush! When I was reading the list of the Malfoy crimes, I couldn't even get halfway through all the material I was researching I was so embarrassed. The only reason your family was even allowed to leave France with all they had was due to the blackmail material that could have destroyed so many lives. As it is, your family was cursed to always carry the name '_Malfoy_' which means '_Bad Faith_'."

Draco stomped his foot down, but managed to keep from reaching for his wand. "You are never to talk to my family, filth! And as for you, Potter!" He took a moment to seethe. "Everyone will read my article and will be after your head! I don't know what Looney may have written, but everyone will know it's a bunch of crap!"

"That is pretty much what most people would have believed, I'll admit to that," Harry said, calmly, but with a dark and angry tone. "Which is why we included articles written by others as well. Charlie Weasley wrote about how the dragons are acclimating down in the Chamber, as well as to the conditions things were in when they arrived. Hermione and I even conducted an interview with one of the dragons in Parseltongue. She had a lot to say about the treatment that she and her fellow dragons had been forced to endure for this stupid tournament, including being set up to be slaughtered by your father."

Even with the zipper sections on his upper and lower lip, Draco continued in his verbal accosting. "Do you expect anything you write to get any credence? Weasley as a dragon keeper might garnish some acknowledgment in knowing about his field, but the rest of you are not knowledgeable authority figures by any means!"

"And might not I be considered a knowledgeable authority figures?" came a squeaky voice from behind Draco.

Draco stiffened. Originally, he had had Pansy watch out for any teachers that decided to intrude, but her altercation with the bird had caused her to leave. Grinding his teeth, Draco slowly tuned and looked down at the diminutive Charms professor. "Sir?"

Professor Filius Flitwick let nothing show on his face, somehow making this moment even more stressful for Draco. "I also submitted an article of my findings in the Main Chamber of Secrets, including the vault doors leading into it. I plan to do a much more thorough series of papers along with Professor Snape's after the two of us have had more time to explore down there this summer."

"Snape wrote an article for _The Quibbler_?" Draco murmured in a small voice.

"Oh, I asked him," Luna responded in her quiet manner. "But he said he didn't have time right now. But maybe later."

Draco seemed to come to his senses again as Flitwick walked off. "Still!" He turned back to the table of Gryffindors and one Ravenclaw. "No one is going to take your word over mine!"

Harry stood now, still angry with Draco calling Hermione filth. "There is an old saying you may or may not have heard of. Basically it is '_Seeing is believing_'. So knowing that people weren't going to automatically believe us, we decided to show them."

Draco let his head tilt to the side. "What do you mean? You are going to start conducting tours down into the Chamber of Secrets? With those dragons down there?"

"In a way." Harry motioned to Hermione to hold up today's issue of _The Quibbler_ so that Draco could read the front page under which was a photograph of several Seventh Year Hogwarts students standing in front of the giant statue of Salazar Slytherin. Luna was next to Hagrid and '_Snuffles_' in the background, sending up fireworks to add light to see the statue clearer with mixed results.

**LORD SLYTHERIN SETS UP FREE PENSIEVES FOR PUBLIC VIEWING OF CHAMBER OF SECRETS!**

**FREE PENSIEVE VIEWINGS IN DIAGON ALLEY, HOGSMEADS, AND HOGWARTS.**

"What? What is this?" he sputtered in outrage.

"This is our planning ahead," explained Harry, his voice cold. "You see, you are just so predictable we knew to expect a scathing article from you, so, using our cunning we planned a way to show the Wizarding World the truth about the Chamber of Secrets, and for an added bonus, thanks to you we were able to discredit your father's new newspaper company on its claims of holding to authenticity as well."

"You-you-you…when I tell my father about this,- -!" the red-faced Malfoy began.

"Oh, you don't have to do that; we made sure he received a copy of _The Quibbler_ as well."

Draco's face began to twitch, and he made a grab for his wand. Goyle and Crabbe also went on the attack, pulling their wands as well.

Harry held up his wand and concentrated on a super-enforced shield to form to form in front of himself and his friends just before their curses and hexes left their wands.

All three spells bounced off his protective shield and struck the ones that fired them. The trio had known not to use anything lethal in such a public place, but even so the results were catastrophic. Draco had evidently fired a tooth-lengthening charm as his two top, front teeth started to grow past the zipper on his lower lip and down his chin. Vincent Crabbe had evidently been impressed with the slug-vomiting hex when Ron had tried to cast it on Draco in their Second Year, because he had fired that spell. Unfortunately, Crabbe had somehow overpowered the spell, and was now having slugs exiting from both ends of his body very rapidly. Gregory Goyle had evidently wanted to make a mockery of Harry, as he had practiced a complex switching spell, which would exchange the victim's face with their butt. Most people cried out when they saw the results when he'd been hit by his own spell.

Flashes soon filled the area as Colin Creevey took as many pictures as he could in the immediate chaos while keeping an eye out for Snape, who would surely try to confiscate the boy's camera.

Goyle, who couldn't seem to figure out what went wrong was fumbling around blindly since his eyes were buried in the back of his pants since that was where his face had been transported to. That being the case, he couldn't see the large slugs that were starting to cover the floor, and slipped, falling down on where his butt used to be, and knocked out three teeth and broke his nose. Goyle slipping had accidently sent Draco flying head first into the Ravenclaw table where his front teeth became embedded into the wooden table, leaving him stuck while looking like a furious were-beaver.

"Potter! What is the meaning of this?" came the outcry of Snape, appearing as if from nowhere.

Harry casually held up his hand for the professor to stop. "First, you must call me Lord Slytherin, as that is who I am. Secondly, I and my friends are all willing to give a pensieve viewings of the events to show exactly what happened and who is to blame for it. I expect you to get your facts straight before presuming to just verbally accuse someone in front of the entire student body. If you wish to continue this discussion sometime later today after you have seen to your students' recovery, we can do so with the headmaster in his office which is the proper process for such discourse."

Snape's eyes scanned the room before settling on Flitwick who nodded in agreement to Potter's words. "Fine!" he spat, spinning around to see about getting three of his students help, and just barely missed stepping on one of the wandering large slugs.

Harry and Hermione settled back into their seats, but kept a careful watch on the Slytherins that were Draco supporters. They were glad to note that there didn't seem to be as much as there used to be.

"They are afraid of you," Hermione said, stating her observation.

"Some of them should be," Harry grumbled as he bit into his toast.

"Behave, Harry. You are starting to sound like a Malfoy."

The toast came sputtering out of his mouth, thankfully missing everyone except one slow owl who flew off with the newspaper still attached to her.

"That – that was brutal, dear," he managed to say after wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Just trying to keep you grounded with the rest of us poor mortals," she answered teasingly.

"Enough, please," Seamus begged, giving a sickly look. "You two together like this is just too mushy, especially this early."

"It's not that early," Hermione responded. "In fact, if Ron doesn't get down here soon, he'll be late."

"He was just getting into the shower when we came down," Dean provided while doodling two wizards having a duel onto a napkin using a muggle pen.

"I'm surprised that Neville isn't about; didn't see him up in the room," Seamus asked with a yawn.

"Oh Merlin!" Hermione gasped. "We forgot!"

Harry groaned and muttered something under his breath.

"Language, Harry!" she reprimanded.

"Sorry," he murmured as he started to get to his feet, picking up both his and her book bags.

"What's going on?" Seamus asked before the two could leave.

Hermione was quickly buttering a scone to take with her as she spoke. "This morning is when the Sorting Hat gets transferred to Neville's mother."

Neville's grandmother had wanted her son, Frank, to be worked on first, but it was only the Sorting Hat explaining that what it was trying to accomplish was new territory for it, it would be better to start with Neville's mother, Alice, since she had not received as much damage as Frank. And that by working through Alice first, Frank could probably have an easier and faster transition, as well as safer.

"There's Dudley now," pointed out Seamus. "Hey, he doesn't have the Hat on!"

"We missed it," Harry grimaced. He had wanted to be there for his god-brother. The hope the youngest Longbottom held in his eyes since learning that the Sorting Hat could possibly help his parents had been burning bright, and Harry would have given his magic to see them restored to him. Fortunately, Harry knew to not try such a thing as the mind can be a fragile thing, and would need a precise, critical hand to repair instead of the overwhelming flood of magic that seemed to be available to him these days.

Harry and Seamus waved Dudley over, and Dudley turned away from his spot at the Hufflepuff table to go see his cousin.

"Hey," he said in greeting, eyeing the food on the table.

"How did the transfer of the Sorting Hat to Neville's mom go?"

Dudley immediately blanched as he looked at his cousin. "No so good. Soon as he was placed on her, she started to scream some garbled words, jumping all around."

"Oh God!" Hermione said, horrified.

"Yeah, the Sorting Hat had to put her to sleep. Said it would be better for her now while he studies her brain activity. You know, figuring out what to correct and all."

Harry had a death grip on Hermione's hand. "How did Neville and his grandmother take it?"

"Um, not good." He knew they wanted more input, which he was struggling to supply. "They both needed Calming Draughts. (_I almost asked for one myself_.) It helped more when the Hat explained that they shouldn't give up hope."

"I think you explained it rather well, Dudley," admitted Hermione.

Dudley gave an embarrassed shrug. "Well, the Sorting Hat had been working on my brain for quite a while now. I should have something to show for it."

Harry let out a laugh. "Trust me. I've noticed the difference."

"The toughest part of not having him on my head is going to be controlling my hunger. The Hat had been helping me diet by curbing my appetite. But with his helping Mrs. Longbottom, well, I feel famished."

Hermione had a thoughtful look. "Your stomach itself should have shrunk some since you have been eating less, so don't be surprised if you can't eat as much as you used to before getting full. Perhaps later today you could have Madam Pomfrey suggest a particular diet for you. Maybe there is even an appetite suppressing potion she could recommend."

Dudley nodded, then excused himself to go sit next to Lavender Brown and her friends who were further down the table.

Harry and Hermione headed out to see if they could see Neville and check on Alice, thereby just missing Dumbledore's arrival in the Great Hall for breakfast.

Seamus had been looking through the two newspapers for the other leading stories, comparing the **ELITE PUREBLOOD HEIR ATTACKED BY WILD BEAUXBATONS STUDENTS** article in _The Daily Prophet_ to the **HOGWARTS STUDENT CAUGHT ATTEMPTING TO GIVE LOVE POTION TO VISITING BEAUXBATONS STUDENTS **article found in _The Quibbler_.

"Dang, I knew that Marcus Flint was stupid, but if he has a lick of common sense, once he gets out of the infirmary he will quit school and head straight home."

"No bet," mumbled Dean, as he chewed his food. "Those girls are out for blood."

"They have already gotten quite a bit of his blood," Luna proclaimed. "That's part of the reason he'll be in the hospital wing for several days at least." She paused in reflection. "I wonder if any of those Beauxbatons students are vampires. That truly was an awful lot of blood spilled."

Dean cast a worried look over to Seamus. "She's kidding, right?"

Seamus couldn't help taking a look over his shoulder to where the majority of the Beauxbatons students were sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Several of them were making a show of actually sharpening their knives before eating. Was it all for show, a warning to other love potion predators? Did anyone really want to test the conviction of young ladies who came from the country that invented the guillotine? Was Luna purposefully trying to boost this rumor in order to make the French witches safer?

"With Luna, who can tell?" Seamus finally answered.

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**TEACHERS QUARTERS OF ALASTOR '**_**MAD-EYE**_**' MOODY**

**HOGWARTS**

"Why the hell didn't you tell me before now that you couldn't be taken away from Hogwarts?" grouched Bartemius Crouch, Jr.

Salazar Slytherin looked coolly out from his portrait. "I believe I did. Also, I presumed that your master would be brought here to meet with me. Regardless, the spell that keeps me bound to the grounds of Hogwarts was done so that only Lord Slytherin can remove my frame from Hogwarts."

Barty kicked aside the prosthetic leg of Mad-Eye Moody in his anger. He had already showed his real form to the Slytherin portrait, and explained that he was spying for his master, Lord Voldemort, as well as working on other tasks.

"Your quarters are secure, correct? I won't be discovered here?" the portrait gave Barty a pinched look.

Barty had taken a swig of firewhiskey to relieve his tension as well as to wash away the taste of polyjuice potion he had had to drink all day to keep up the masquerade of being Alaster Moody.

The escaped convict snorted a small fireball in the direction of the animated painting. "The man I've been impersonating is well known to be extremely paranoid. I'm actually expected to have ridiculous protection wards and traps! And I didn't disappoint anyone in that department either. This place has two red-headed Sixth Years that have already tried four times! The boil-bursting ward seemed to get them to change their ways last week, but I think they may give it another go soon! No, no one gets in here, not even house-elves."

"House-elves?" inquired Slytherin. "And what pray tell are they?"

"They didn't have house-elves when you were at Hogwarts?" Barty enquired in surprise. "How did you get the castle to function?"

"We used magic," he responded sardonically.

Barty gave a quick laugh. Using his wand, he transformed a trashcan into a facsimile of a house-elf. "These little guys are the servants of the magical world today. Tough little buggers. Can take a hell of a beating, too. Lots of magic to them."

"Indeed," Salazar said with more interest. "In my day they were known as imps."

"Imps? The mythical bane of wizards and witches?" Barty asked with interest.

Salazar nodded from within the painting. "Yes, the very same. I do not know how they describe them in this day and age, but when I was still breathing, imps fed off the magic of wizards and witches. They didn't take much, but they could do so much with what they got. The mischievous little monsters loved to antagonize the ones that were the source of their power to no end. It was disastrous once the menaces found their way through the wards of Hogwarts. So much magic to siphon out, the imps started to become drunk off the power. Some even began to tear the castle apart."

"What did you do?" Barty queried with rapt attention, having never heard anything relating to this before.

"I, along with the other Four Founders, our apprentices, and several teachers captured one of the imps. Using it as a focus for our spell, we bound the imps to be subservient to wizards and witches. As Rowena had proclaimed, '_If they are to use some of our magic, then they will have to earn it with obedience_'. From then on, imps could only siphon magic from those they serve. Helga managed to add a clause that the owner of an imp could discharge them from their services simply by giving them an article of clothing. She said she wanted to keep it simple. Helga was always one for seeing the details that others looked over."

Barty nodded, reflecting on his thoughts. "Yes, that form of dismissal still works today. Father evidently presented our family house-elf with clothes when I escaped from house-arrest. A pity, really. It was always so much fun to torture Winky when I was younger."

Barty suddenly raised his head in interest. "What if we were to break this contractual existence of house-elves? Could they be returned to being imps?"

Salazar narrowed his eyes as he looked down at the wizard. "That would be very unwise, young man."

"But, if we were to free the imps, then my master could use another captured imp to force a spell upon, perhaps making imps only obey him! My master would be instantly-"

"Dead is what he would be," jeered Salazar. "If the imps of today are even close to the number of my day, your Lord Voldemort would be drained of his magic by those impish mosquitoes."

Frowning, Barty collapsed into a padded chair facing the framed picture. Salazar let him sit in peace in order to do some thinking of his own. It was nearly a half hour later that Barty broke the silence.

"What of the castle?"

"Eh?"

"The castle," Barty repeated, sitting up in his chair. "There are hundreds of house-elves in Hogwarts. How are they bound to the castle? Surely they can't all be bonded to the headmaster as he is just one man, so it must be the castle that the ones here in Hogwarts are bound to."

"That is true," Salazar admitted. "The ley lines that come through Hogwarts use the castle as a type of focus. We were able to allow the imps, or house-elves as you call them, to draw magic through the castle to an extent through permission of the headmaster or Founders. It was not the same as taking magic from a wizard or witch, but more than enough for their dietary needs, so to speak."

A wicked grin crossed Barty's face, licking his lips in excitement. "My master would need to be in control of the castle then. Perhaps that is one of the reasons that he holds such an interest in the school."

Salazar slowly stroked his beard as he began to speculate. "If that is true, then you should probably not mention that to your Lord Voldemort as he would wish to keep it a secret, and would perhaps silence you to do so."

Barty gulped in fear. "I would never tell my master's secrets."

"Your master has never killed someone to keep a secret, even one of his own minions?"

"But I-I am loyal!"

"I'm sure that is what others thought, too, right before he killed them." Salazar looked down at him with amusement. "Tell me, is the _Avada Kedavra_ curse still in use, or has it been replaced with something newer?"

"My master won't kill me! I am his most loyal servant!" Barty insisted. "It is all my work here, at Hogwarts, in the camp of his enemies, that I shall provide the means to restore him to strength so that he can take his rightful place at the head of the Wizarding World!"

"What do you mean by '_restore him to strength_'?

Barty suddenly snarled. "Why do you ask so many questions?"

"How else do I find the answers?" Salazar effortlessly deflected. "How can I know to help you if I don't have an understanding of what you need?"

"What I need?" growled Barty. "I need for you to tell me about how you, a portrait, can gain a body, like you were claiming to those two I bushwhacked down in your private chambers."

"Ah, yes, that. You think your master could make use of that, do you?"

"Of course, I do! Not only could that possibly restore my master to a strong body, but he could create an army of wizards and witches. Just have a dementor suck out several souls from blood-traitors and the like, and then take the family portraits of loyal Death Eaters and enlist them in our cause by giving them physical form again inside the living husks!"

"It could work," Salazar admitted. "However…"

"However?" Barty growled angrily.

"I need to communicate with your master. If not face-to-face, then surely voice-to-voice. I would know the person I give this knowledge to," he insisted.

"That will not be easy," he grimaced. "Communicating through the school's wards without Dumbledore finding out." He hissed through his teeth at the thought. "I'm allowed to pretty much come and go, but that's mostly because Moody is a friend of the old goat. I'm not sure how to go on about this."

Salazar scoffed. "Then think of something, man! Are you not a wizard? Do you not have a wand? Surely you must have sufficient intelligence and ability if your master entrusted you with so much, yes? Then use it! Think and create! Prove yourself to me and your master!"

"Yes, yes, I-I just need to think!" Barty stood and went to his bookshelf, selecting certain ones that looked useful.

Meanwhile, Salazar Slytherin looked on and smirked. He was glad to find that even in this day and age, wizards were still so easy to manipulate.

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_Ok, another chapter. I wanted to get this out before I fly out tomorrow to Minnesota. It's been six years since I've been back to the motherland and seen the family homestead. I don't think my kids even remember the place since they were 1 and 4 when we left there. Plus, we will be there for my dad's 70__th__ birthday, and help my mom while she has surgery on her shoulder. My sister hasn't seen my girls in about four years so that will be cool, too._

_Please R&amp;R. Thanks._


	20. Chapter 20

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts **

By Ordinaryguy2

**Chapter 20**

**DECEMBER 18, 1994**

**SUNDAY EVENING**

**RIDDLE MANOR**

**LITTLE HANGLETON**

The frail, infant monster snuggled into the coils of Nagini's scales as he reread the letter from his loyal minion inside Hogwarts. Voldemort considered the ramifications of what Barty Crouch Jr was suggesting. An army of loyal servants created from the dementor-sucked husks of his enemies, each living husk being filled with the consciousness of the portraits of dead Death Eaters and their families. At first glance it seemed like a good idea, but what of the loyalties of those newly living people. Some would have been dead for centuries, and would be lost in the world of today, or at least in the muggle world. Some might even blame him for the deaths of their family members.

He would have to fashion a loyalty oath with before they were revived, or just after they were revived. Maybe both to make it stick. Could he put his dark mark on the empty bodies and then let the portraits inhabit them? So many possibilities.

The biggest obstacle was that the portrait of Salazar Slytherin wanted to talk with Voldemort before relinquishing his secrets. Voldemort was not in any condition to travel to Hogwarts in his current body so some form of instant message transfer would have to be used. Pettigrew had surprisingly come up with the idea of using enchanted mirrors for them to talk to each other, an enchantment that he and the Marauders had put together in their youth. However, Voldemort did not want to allow Salazar the opportunity to see him in his weakened condition. Thus, he was now considering the use of two magical books that could transmit written messages between them. It would not be as personal as he wished, plus Crouch would have to do all the writing for Salazar, at least until they could get a dictation quill set up for the portrait to use. Perhaps a dictation quill for himself as well, as he did not want Wormtail to screw up his messages.

The next problem was could he trust his ancestor to not attempt to usurp his following. If anyone could overthrow him, it would be Salazar Slytherin. Even if he had already given a sworn magical oath.

He spent half an hour curled up with Nagini, sucking on a bottle of venom mixed with milk, contemplating what it would take to experiment with transporting the essences inhabiting portraits into the soulless bodies of those that had been kissed by a dementor. Such an undertaking would take quite a while to get right, costing them many portraits along the way as well as time.

No, he would have to try and work with the legendary Slytherin, while being wary of him at every step. Going that route made it possible to learn other secrets that the portrait was most likely currently keeping to himself.

The Dark Lord pushed away the bottle as he snuggled into the coils of his familiar, enjoying the heat from the fireplace. As the full belly of milk and venom lulled him to sleep, he began to wonder how he had never discovered Salazar's hidden chamber when he had searched the Chamber of Secrets so many decades ago.

From a small hole in the wall, a fat rat studied the large snake and what it kept protected in it's coils. The rodent shivered at the unnatural sight, gnashing it's teeth at it's lot to have chosen to serve such a master.

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**DECEMBER 18, 1994**

**SUNDAY EVENING**

**SECLUDED ROOM NEAR THE SLYTHERIN COMMON ROOM**

**HOGWARTS**

Draco crumpled up the parchment and threw it into the fireplace where its fiery fragments joined the ash of his previous attempts. His fist pounded against the table causing the phoenix quill he was using to write with to snap in half, which he threw away in disgust, sending small dots of ink in its wake. He let out another growl in frustration, angry that he couldn't prove Pansy wrong.

Word of the fiasco down in the Chamber of Secrets had gotten out, that he had fainted and pissed himself when he noticed the half-Grim dog of the oafish groundskeeper had stared at him and licked his chops in hunger. That damn Creevey had even taken pictures of him passed out on the stone floor.

Pansy had come to him with one of the pictures that had been floating around the school and demanded to know if it had really happened or if it was a fake. He tried denying, but she had already made up her mind and she rescinded her acceptance as his date for the Yule Ball.

To further infuriate him, she dared him to not run and send a letter to his father so that he could try fix everything for him. She dared him to '_man up_' and start fixing his messes himself instead of using his father like he was an all-powerful djinn that catered to his son's every whiny wish.

He accepted her dare, smugly saying that he would show the school the true mettle of a Malfoy and Slytherin.

Her parting shot as she left was for that to be true, then he couldn't get help from Snape either.

That had been hours ago. Several times now he had started to write a letter to his father. Each time he had read what he wrote and was disgusted with himself. He just had to come up with a way on his own to show up Potter.

The problem was how. How in the world could he show himself as being superior when Potter was somehow suddenly displaying incredible, unexplainable amounts of power? Power that even the Founders aren't known to have. Power that Merlin himself never displayed.

How had Potter been able to become a giant? Or even manage to transform into that winged snake? Potter had even managed to turn him into a ferret silently and wandlessly. It just didn't make sense. Potter wasn't even a pure-blood, so how could he become so powerful? There had to be some secret there. A talisman, maybe. Or some long forgotten power strengthening ritual. "If I could only somehow spy on him."

"Spy on who?" came an eager feminine voice.

Draco gave out an exasperated sigh in response. "Are you stalking me again, Myrtle?"

The young Ravenclaw ghost materialized in a corner five feet away, giggling at having been caught. "Hello, Draco," she cooed as she gave a bashful wave.

"I suppose you bribed the Bloody Baron again with your '_Myrtle suit_' again so you could spy on me," he said with annoyance. He had started to get used to his ghostly stalker, figuring her more as an irritation than anything else. It was much more disturbing knowing that the Bloody Baron was somewhere in the castle dancing around in a full body suit created in the image of Myrtle, which had been made in an unforeseen potions catastrophe. It had come as quite a shock to everyone to learn that the Bloody Baron, before he had died, had liked to use polyjuice potion to turn himself into attractive females and then dance around in pretty clothes. Now that he had a female form that he could slip into again, the ghost had been making up for the centuries of time he had lost, dancing and skipping around in the female form. To make matters worse, Luna Lovegood, Lavender Brown and a few other girls around the castle had taken to giving the old spook fashion tips as well as various things to wear when wearing the '_Myrtle suit_'.

"Of course," she admitted. "Peeves also wanted to try it on, but the Bloody Baron refuses to let the old poltergeist anywhere near it. He said Peeves was sure to ruin it somehow."

Draco snorted in agreement. The Bloody Baron had lost a lot of the fear most had in him since he had come dancing out of the closet in a Myrtle's '_Myrtle suit_'.

"So who do you need spying on?"

"What?" He had been caught off guard. Other than the Bloody Baron, he had considered the other Hogwarts ghosts to be useless and pathetic. But Myrtle had more than proved that she was capable of spying, as well as being able to overcome obstacles in order to do so. "Would you do that for me? Spying, that is?"

Myrtle seemed to think about it as she tapped a finger against her chin. "I do have to wonder…"

"Wonder what?" suspicion laced in his words.

"Why, I just have to wonder what is in it for me is all." She gave him her sweetest of smiles while fluttering her eyelashes.

The Malfoy heir had to use all his family training to keep the grimace from showing on his face. "What is it that you want?"

"Oh, I would ask for just you, but I know that wouldn't work. Still, traveling around as a ghost, I hear all sorts of things, and one of those things I overheard has me thinking…"

Her pause had extended too long for Draco's patience. "Thinking what?"

"Well, it really is quite simple once you think about it, plus rather sensible since-"

"Just tell me!" he demanded, only noticing in the silence afterwards that he had lost his temper so easily. "Damn it! Everything has just got me so stressed I can barely think straight!"

Myrtle looked like she was going to pout. "It's no reason to take out your anger on poor little ol' me."

Logic dictated that he would have to placate her if he was going to find out what it was she was talking about. So with that reasoning in mind he mumbled an apology.

"What was that?" the moping ghost asked.

"I said I'm sorry, all right?"

"Very well," Myrtle said, instantly cheerful again. "I was just trying to point out that since you no longer have a date for the Yule Ball, you could ask me to go with you since that horrid Pansy Parkinson turned you down. And in exchange, I would spy on whoever you need me to. So…" She gave him a bashful, sideways look.

It took a moment for him to register the fact that she had not only just suggested she go with him to the Yule Ball, but that she was also waiting for him to ask her. From somewhere deep in the back of his brain, he could just barely hear the logical part of his brain shouting that he should consider taking her up on this offer. If he was going to learn how Potter had become so powerful, this seemed the most likely way as she had proved herself capable by spying on him. (_Draco had taken to changing his clothes under his bedsheets and showering in swimming trunks. He also only used the toilet with the lights off, just in case._)

But, still, to take a ghost to the ball? And that ghost being Moaning Myrtle? His mind scoured over any other possible witch at Hogwarts that he might still be able to take to the damn ball. The only girl that even still looked at him hopefully was the First Year, Astoria Greengrass. And there was no way in hell he was taking a First Year to the bloody ball.

"Fine, I'll take you to the Yule Ball if you spy on Potter for me."

She gave out a squeal of delight as she zoomed around the room, sending some of Draco's sections of parchments flying around.

She landed in front of Draco, giving off another squeal. "Oh, I have so much to do to get ready! The Yule Ball is just a week away! Lavender and Parvati! I need to see if they can help me get ready! And, oh, I think that is the night I am scheduled to watch over the abomination. I'll have to see if I the Fat Friar will take over the watch that night."

"What abomination?" Draco asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

The ghost froze and somehow seemed to grow paler than before. "I mustn't speak of it. It is a thing of horror. The Ghost Council have declared that we are to speak to no living person about it. That we are only to guard it and wait."

"_Wait_?" Draco found himself somehow being drawn into this conversation, as he tried to comprehend the spectral mindset that would have the ghosts of Hogwarts secretly guarding something that they considered an abomination. "What do they wait for?"

"We wait for it to go away! And we must not speak of this anymore! Not if you want me to spy on Harry Potter for you!"

Gritting his teeth, turned away from the ghost for a moment to think. There was evidently something important here that the ghosts at Hogwarts guard in secret. Myrtle wasn't about to tell him what it is, at least not yet. Perhaps he could best coax it out of her over time, like right after taking her to the Yule Ball. Plus, if he did take her, then she would spy for him, too. '_Two birds with one stone_' he thought, thinking of himself as being clever.

Turning back to Myrtle, he gave her his most charming smile. "Very well, Myrtle. I will try to forget about the thing that you say we shouldn't talk about. Now that being said, will you do me the honor of being my date for the Yule Ball?"

She smiled and clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Ohhhhh! I can't wait to tell everyone!"

He managed to keep from grimacing; instead his mind began considering different angles. He couldn't ask her to keep it a secret, as that would let her know he was up to something. No, his reputation was going to have to skydive for a while. A dislikable situation to be sure, but if he could come out of it with powers like Potter now had or even greater, he would be revealed as greatest Slytherin since… Salazar Slytherin himself!

A small waver of doubt crossed his mind, making him want to cancel everything, pack everything up and flee home. He could hire tutors to teach him everything he needed to know.

But no, he could not bear the shame. Neither would his father. His father hadn't even considered bringing Draco home when the basilisk was lurking the hall of the school. Neither did he take him home when Dementors guarded the perimeter of the school grounds. But his father would consider disowning his only son if he did try and leave the school just because things were not going his way.

Malfoys were the rudder that turned the boat regardless of where those who rowed wanted to go. He was a Malfoy, and he would steer this situation to where he wanted it to go. He would ultimately succeed and earn the accolades of his fellow Slytherins and the peers of his father.

Yes, this would work.

He would make it work.

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**DECEMBER 19, 1994**

**MONDAY, LATE AFTERNOON**

**INFIRMARY**

**HOGWARTS**

Petunia sat composed on the edge of one of the beds in the infirmary at Hogwarts. She drew in a deep, calming breath as she waited for her examiners to come back with her results. Her exams had become a weekly routine, and an annoying one at that. She already knew that her magical core could not expand to the average level of a witch her age due to it being bound for so long, and it was frustrating to be thoroughly examined to study what growth did manage to occur. While she told herself that the only reason she allowed these exams was because something like this may have never been studied before, only speculated, in truth, she was hoping that there would be a large jump in the growth of her core, or that the Unspeakable and his associates would realize how to correct the problem and repair the damage to her damaged magical core.

Dudley had already had his exam, which had shown another jump in his power levels. She knew that she shouldn't be jealous of her son, and she did feel glad for him, she just found it frustrating that magic was always going to be easier for him than it would be for her. It was already somewhat embarrassing that he was usually able to get spells to work right before she could. Even more so as they were First Year spells. She just had to remind herself that she should consider herself fortunate that she could use magic at all. And while Dudley's core was getting stronger, due to his magic being bound for so many years he would never be at the level of his peers. And surprisingly, he was ok with that.

She had talked with Poppy about it during their tea time sessions, and she had turned out to be quite good at listening. She had also pointed out that negative thoughts can also cause problems making spells work, which Petunia had to admit made sense since mental focus was one of the key elements to using magic.

But no matter how positive she tried to be, the time after being examined, which is when Poppy, Unspeakable Crescendo and her (_Petunia was rather certain that Crescendo had to be female, despite the magical robes that hid any sign of the identity of the Unspeakable_) knowledgeable companions went into Pomfrey's office, and the time they came out, Petunia always felt ill at ease, wondering what they were saying about her.

She realized that part of this behavior might be left over from when she was living at her home on Privet Drive. She had always worried what the neighbors thought about her and her family. She had even concerned about the stain on her family's reputation because of Harry living with them. Some of this had been caused by the control rods that she had discovered wedged into their bodies, influencing them. But some part of it had to have been part of the real her. The trouble was, how was she to know what part was the conditioning of the rods she was trying to overcome and how much was just her normal personality? How could she ever tell? When she had finally admitted that concern to Pomfrey, the med-witch had taken a long sip of her tea before telling her that at this point she should just try to be the best person she could be, working on her troubles as she went.

She looked up at Poppy's door, willing it to open and it's occupants to come out and present her with their findings. She almost jumped when it was another door that opened instead.

Her nephew walked in through the main entrance mumbling something to his girlfriend that made her chuckle into her hand. As the two teens looked around, they saw her and headed over her way.

"Hello, aunt Petunia," Harry said in greeting. "Is Madam Pomfrey still consulting with her colleagues?"

She nodded, then motioned to them to partake of the tea that was setting out on a side table. Hermione poured herself a cup while Harry politely declined.

"Any good news?" inquired Hermione, before blowing on her tea to cool it.

"My core growth was again marginal, but Dudley had a bit of a jump."

"Well, that's…" Harry hesitated, as he tried to find a word he could use positively. "That's still good. It's a step forward. Progress and all that, right?" He managed to cast a glance to Hermione that asked for help.

"Mrs. Dursley,-"

"Please, in private like this, call me Petunia."

It was Hermione's turn to freeze up. She saw adults as authority figures; quite a few were not very good at such a role, but still, that's what they were to her. Who was she, a mere student, to speak in such a familiar manner with Harry's aunt?

"Uh…"

Petunia noticed right away what the problem was as her sister had been the same way. "Never mind, dear," she said, dismissing the poor girl's authority hang-up. "Now what were you about to say?"

"Oh, uh, well, just that Harry was only trying to say is while it's good that you are both getting stronger, that is not always the deciding factor in every matter."

Harry's aunt's brow furrowed as she tried to understand what Hermione meant. "How do you mean?"

Hermione bit her lower lip as she worked out the best way to explain her meaning. Meanwhile, Petunia was momentarily amused at how instantly taken in Harry was at the sight of his girlfriend biting her lip.

"Well, while power is power, it can also be a problem. What could be repaired with a blowtorch, cannot be fixed with an atomic bomb. Control must be learned, as Harry is finding out, much to his frustration."

Petunia frowned again. "While that could apply to Harry due to his unusual rise in power, it doesn't really refer to me."

"But you both have to determine how to apply yourself, each in your own way" Hermione pointed out. "Let's say you were put in a situation where you had to defend yourself or others from someone as powerful as the headmaster. What would you do?"

Petunia's mind tried to baulk from the proposed scenario. But then her few classes with the nutcase Professor '_Mad-Eye_' Moody came to mind. She had found the ex-auror to be extremely distasteful, but knowledgeable in his field. His main point after '_Constant Vigilance!_' was to take the spells you knew well and know how and when to use them for the most affect. "I suppose use a tripping hex when he wasn't expecting it, like when he was on the stairs."

Hermione nodded. "What else?" she asked encouragingly.

"Possibly an overpowered _Lumos_ to temporarily blind him."

"I can see that working," Harry commented encouragingly.

"Filius has been working on teaching me a spell that makes a person's tongue stick to the top of their mouth so that they can't speak."

Hermione frowned slightly. "That is a good spell, but most wizards and witches near Dumbledore's power level and experience are able to do a majority of their spells without speaking them. It just wouldn't have the affect you want."

Petunia seemed rather put out for a moment, then grinned. "How about hitting their wand hand with a numbing charm? Poppy was showing me one the other day after a Second Year came in from Herbology with a hand full of needles from some plant that was being covered in class."

"If the spell makes the hand go limp as well as stops pain receptors, then yes, that would do just nice."

"It does," Petunia said. "It doesn't take much magic to use either, but Poppy stressed that it should never be used near the heart, lungs, spine or brain, as the results would be catastrophic."

Harry and Hermione were sickened as they imagined just what those results could be. "Best not mention that spell to others," Harry suggested. "But it would make for a good defense spell if you absolutely need it, especially if your opponent is unfamiliar with it. However, make sure you know the counter-curse in case you were to accidently hit a person in the wrong place."

Petunia's face paled in realization that she didn't know the counter-spell to the medical-spell. "I'll make sure Poppy teaches it to me in the next couple of days."

"If you could show me both spells later, that would be nice." Hermione hesitated a moment before adding, "Though you probably should not mention or teach that spell to anyone else. Some of the more… vile students would use it to torment others or worse. Fortunately, most pure-bloods are not that creative in how they use spells."

Harry's aunt eyed the muggle-born witch with apprehension. Having attended a muggle school, Petunia had seen how kids could pick on other students. Those small, weaker, or poorer were often the target by bullies, receiving toilet swirlies, being locked inside their school locker, being verbally ridiculed, being chased through the halls, their things stolen and/or broken. Bullies with magic… what they could do to those they oppress using magic. The possibilities staggered her imagination.

"Surely the professors would stop any such behavior!"

"It's a big castle," remarked Harry. "And there are a lot of students running around in it. Not to mention a lot of family animosity carrying over from the last war."

A loud gasp suddenly came from Petunia. "And every child that attends here carries the equivalent of a lethal weapon in the form of their wand."

Harry and Hermione shared an alarmed look. "I've never thought of it that way," Harry admitted. "There must be some safeguards to block certain malicious behavior."

"_Hogwarts, A History_ states that there are wards in place at the school to monitor for dangerous items and activities." Hermione then began to frown. "It also mentions that those in charge of the school can augment the parameters of those wards."

Harry began to nod. "That most likely explains how that book with the shade of Voldemort inside was able to get onto the school grounds. There's probably been quite a few changes to the school wards over the centuries for who knows how many reasons. Some of them could have left opening to let other dark and dangerous items in later."

"Can we correct that?" asked Petunia, with growing concern.

"Hmm." Hermione considered their options, but they just didn't have enough information with which to work on. "We'll have to look at the ward stone. Or maybe it's ward _stones_ for a place this size."

"The old goat won't like that," muttered Harry. Dumbledore had been trying to block them at every turn, and it was infuriating Harry. It was as if the headmaster was adamant that things not change. Or at least not unless he was the one initiating the change. Hermione had pointed out to him before that it was also a power move, that in blocking them Dumbledore was reasserting his authority over them.

"So you two know how to work ward stones?" Petunia asked, curiously.

"Um, no," Hermione admitted, blushing as she was embarrassed at admitting to not know something. "We'd need to get help for that."

"Who?" Harry asked, not having studies ward stones before.

"Perhaps Professor Babbling and Professor Vector could aid us?" the older woman asked. "They teach Ancient Runes and Arithmancy so they should know something about the ward stones. If it is beyond their abilities, I'm sure they could put us in touch with someone that can aid us in checking the wards."

"I didn't know that you knew the professors," Hermione said with surprise.

A smile crossed Petunia's features. "While it is nice to finally grace the walls of Hogwarts and attend classes here with the students, every now and then it is good to spend some time with some adults. Besides, Bathsheda and Septima have been giving me a few assignments to work on. Runes can be frustrating, but Arithmancy is pretty easy. And having a… crippled magical core, I just have to say, it is nice to be better than others at least in one thing. Even if I'm not exactly brilliant at it."

"Aunt Petunia," Harry began. "You've been handling this whole '_becoming-a-witch-later-in-life_' thing really well. Even Dudley has." He purposely avoided mentioning his uncle who Harry still had deep reservations for. "It's true that you have limited use of your magic, but you have uncovered a rich wizarding heritage. You are a descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw! You and I own this castle and can help mold one of the oldest and greatest teaching establishments in the Wizarding world!"

"Yes, yes," she stated dismissively, casually wiping her eyes. "There is no need to become cheerleaders for me. I'm really just fine. But I could perhaps use some cheering up. Now what were you two chuckling about when you came in here?"

Harry snorted in amusement. "It's my friend Ron."

"The redhead boy in your year?"

Harry nodded, but not before realizing that Ron tended to be absent when Harry spent time with his aunt. Was it purposeful? He'd have to ask him later. "You know the Yule Ball is almost here. Well, Ron still doesn't have a date. He's got a girl in mind (Actually Hermione suggested who he should ask) But he can't get up the nerve to ask her."

Hermione almost bent over with laughter. "Katie Bell was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room talking with her Potions study group, when Ron marched up to her. He made some kind of strangled noise, then realizing he couldn't speak, he quickly turned away from her and began to quickly shuffle his way out the portrait entrance."

"Does she know he wants to ask her to the Yule Ball?" Ron actions amused her as they nearly mirrored the first attempt Vernon had made to ask to take her to a play. Fortunately, by his third attempt, a week later, he had finally gotten all the words out, and she did go out with him, even though the play had finished a few days before.

"We warned her," Harry said with a smirk. "She said that while Ron wasn't her first choice for a date, she would go with him if he would get up the nerve to ask her."

"Hmm, yes," his aunt said, thinking thoughtfully. "Being that he is a clueless male, if he ever does make the request, he should probably think about getting her a Christmas present of some sort. Something simple, yet sweet."

Hermione nodded. "I'll see that he does."

"And he should have a corsage to give her for the ball. And a similar boutonniere for himself."

"C-corsages?" Harry gulped, realizing that he had a few more things to attend to as well. "I don't even know what a boutonniere is!"

After shaking her head, Hermione playfully batted Harry in the back of the head. "Silly boy."

Mirroring his girlfriend's playful manner, he shot her a grin. "Yep, that me. The-Boy-Who-Is-Silly."

Hermine rolled her eyes, and turned to Petunia. "Is there anything that you can tell us about Neville's mother?"

It was a sobering subject change, but an understood one in Petunia's opinion. Neville was good friends with Harry and Hermione, plus it had been revealed that his mother, Alice Longbottom, was also Harry's godmother. "She is still being kept unconscious while the Sorting Hat preforms what I guess would be the equivalent of a diagnostic exam. The damages are obviously extensive, but seems to only have hindered the higher brain functions. It is still too soon to know if anything can be done. The Sorting Hat compares his exam as if he were trying to solve an encrypted message. Only it's her whole brain that has been scrambled. Once the Sorting Hat gets some memories pieced together, he hopes that more would fall into place quickly."

"The Sorting Hat will use the memories as a key to putting the rest of her memories together?" Hermione summarized, as her brain began to work.

"That is how I understood it," Petunia responded.

"So her brain, or more specifically, her memories were scrambled by the Cruciatus Curse."

"Yes, Poppy told me it was a result of prolonged exposure to the torture curse. Most people were never held under it for such an extended period." Petunia could not help the shiver that went up her spine. "The woman who tortured the Longbottoms, Bellatrix, was evidently a true sadist and deserves her life sentence in… um."

"Azkaban," supplied Hermione. "And having read the transcripts of her trial, I know that she, at least, deserves to be there."

"I agree," Harry stated. "Of everyone I know after Hermione, I feel I can relate most to Neville since we both had our parents tragically taken from us. True, his parents were still alive, but I think he grew up feeling just as alone as I did."

Guilt assaulted Petunia when she considered her part in Harry's upbringing. True, there had been repressing rods hidden within her body affecting how she reacted to things, especially her nephew. Filius and Poppy were also of the mind that there had also been some compulsion spells influencing her as well. But even so, she felt responsible for all the ill treatment and misery she, Vernon, and Dudley had inflicted upon her sister's son. And while she and Dudley were not truly culpable of their actions, Vernon did not have the same excuse. If there ever had been any compulsion spells on Vernon, it had been so long ago that it didn't show when Poppy did a scan on him. And to make matters worse, Petunia hadn't found any repressing rods on his body either. What was she supposed to do if Vernon wasn't able to change?

"Mrs. Dur- Petunia? Did you hear what I said?" Hermione asked, putting a hand on the Petunia's shoulder.

Harry's aunt shook her head, and tried to hide the fact that she had to wipe away a few stray tears. "I'm sorry, I was lost in my thoughts. What was that, dear?"

"Well, it's just that I remembered that Neville's parents were both aurors, um, basically they are the wizard cops. But, anyway, both of his parents must have provided memories for pensieve testimonies for trials. If those memories are still stored away somewhere, maybe the Sorting Hat could use them as an encryption key in restoring their minds. Or at the very least, to patch together a small part of their mind right away so there is less to work on."

Slowly, Petunia began to nod her head. "That is actually rather brilliant."

"We will have to check with the Sorting Hat to see if it is feasible," Hermione admitted. "Right now it is just a theory."

"It's a better theory than any I came up with," Harry said with amusement. "Just like you did when you suggested using the Chamber of Secrets to provide sanctuary to the remaining dragons from the First Task."

Hermione gasped as her eyes threatened to bug out of her head. "I can't believe I have been such an idiot!"

Harry frowned while Petunia was startled by the outburst.

"I highly doubt that you are an idiot, Hermione." Harry said, before giving her a sly smile. "However, if you feel you need confirmation about that, go ahead and tell us what is on you mind."

The young witch's response was to blow him a raspberry. "Prat!"

"That's me! The-Boy-Who-Is-A-Prat!"

She rolled her eyes before turning to Petunia. "I was just thinking how Harry and you used your position as Heirs to the Founders to grant sanctuary to the dragons. You could do that again for Sirius!"

The older woman was struck aghast. "The escaped mass murderer Sirius Black!?"

"He's innocent!" Harry proclaimed, realizing now what Hermione's idea was. "It was actually Peter Pettigrew who betrayed my parents! It was only when Sirius was about to capture him that the rat blew up twelve people to cover his escape."

"We can show you later in a pensieve," Hermione added. "We had an encounter with Sirius and Wormtail, I mean Pettigrew. It was in the Shrieking Shack. It all came out when Sirius and Remus had briefly captured the betrayer."

"Who all knows this?"

The two teens frowned for a moment. "Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, maybe his parents if Ron told them. Dumbledore, of course…" Harry gave his head a shake, not wanting to think about the school's headmaster. Looking up, his eyes found those of his aunt. "If we do this, then he could walk around free, or at least free on the Hogwarts grounds. The Wizengamot would have to give him the trial that he never had. Fudge would have to eat his order to have Sirius kissed on sight."

"Wha…" Petunia shook her head, holding up a hand to stop Harry from going on. "What do you mean '_kissed on sight_' order?"

"The Dementors are used to guard Azkaban," explained Hermione. "They are gaunt wraith-like figures that literally suck the heat and joy out of whatever is close to them. It's absolutely one of the worst things I have ever experienced." She cuddled into Harry's embrace. "The Dementors are also able to suck out the souls of those they come upon, leaving their victims a living husk. Somehow, having ones souls sucked out began to be called the Dementor's Kiss." She shuddered, embracing Harry even more.

Before they could relay any more information to Harry's aunt, the main doors to the school infirmary opened. Two Hufflepuff witches in their Fourth Year had stepped inside. The first was a redhead with piercing blue eyes that seemed very intent. The other girl had long blond hair and was quietly pleading with her friend.

"Do you know who that is?" Harry asked, not familiar with the two girls even though he did recognize them from some of the classes they had together.

"Susan Bones is the redhead. She and I used to sit together in some of our classes for our first two years, and even studied together as well. She kept asking questions about you. A lot of girls asked me questions about you, actually. She stopped joining me in class when I refused to give her any of the information she wanted."

Blushing, all Harry could think to say was, "Thanks." No more needed to be said as Hermione knew how much Harry preferred his privacy. When he had first arrived at Hogwarts, he was caught by surprise to learn that he had a fan club. Many of the girls in the club had pestered Hermione to learn more about what Harry was really like after she had become a friend of his due to the troll incident. She had gotten quite good at shooing them away, and over time the club seemed to go away, as did most of the girls that asked Hermione about Harry.

"The other girl is Susan's best friend - Hannah Abbott. They more or less grew up together. She's nice, but shy at times."

As the two girls came closer, anger could be seen plainly on the face of the redheaded witch, and the focus seemed to be Hermione Granger.

"Susan? What's wrong?" Hermione asked quietly, unsure as to what was going on.

Susan stood ramrod straight as she stared down at the muggle-born witch. "Granger, I am here to formally tell you to stand down as Harry Potter's date for the Yule Ball."

A look of anger and outrage now began to form on Hermione's face, while her hair began to stick up here and there due to the amount of magic building up within her. "And why in the world would I do that?" she spoke coldly. This wasn't the first time a young witch had tried to warn her away from Harry so that they could have a chance at him. But Susan was the first one brazen enough to tell her so in front of Harry.

Susan thrust her chin out arrogantly. "Because he and I are betrothed to be married. And I will not have him dating someone else and thus make a mockery of both me and the House of Bones!"

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_I know it was filler, but the scene with Voldemort seemed necessary to show how the Dark Lord was taking the sudden arrival of Salazar on the scene._

_And, yes, I have plans for Draco and this part is building on it. (__**laughs maniacally**__)_

_As for Susan Bones having a betrothal contract with Harry, I have left some clues to that here and there in my story. In chapter 15, Dumbledore contemplates briefly on the marriage contract he had created for Harry in order to secure a powerful ally. Later in the chapter I referred to a young redhead running away after hearing the goblin Screwball suggesting that Harry and Hermione magic working so well together indicates they are soul bonded. Just mentioning that it was a redhead running away was a bit of a red herring as most people would think it was Ginny Weasley even if Ginny was there later in the chapter._

_Until next time. _


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**Recap:**

"_Susan? What's wrong?" Hermione asked._

"_Granger, I am here to formally tell you to stand down as Harry Potter's date for the Yule Ball." _

"_And why in the world would I do that?" Hermione spoke coldly. This wasn't the first time a young witch had tried to warn her away from Harry so that they could have a chance at him. But Susan was the first one brazen enough to tell her so in front of Harry. _

_Susan thrust her chin out arrogantly. "Because he and I are betrothed to be married. And I will not have him dating someone else and thus make a mockery of both me and the House of Bones!"_

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**DECEMBER 19, 1994**

**MONDAY, LATE AFTERNOON**

**INFIRMARY**

**HOGWARTS**

"What do you mean we are betrothed to be married?" demanded Harry, shocked and outraged. Surprise outlined Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott's face. "You didn't know?"

"Of course not!"

Harry and Hermione just stood there for a moment staring at Susan and Hannah, who also appeared to be at a loss for words. The more it drug on, the more neither wanted to be the first to say anything. Fortunately, there was a fifth person in the Infirmary with them.

"Is it customary for children of the wizarding world to be betrothed? Even sometimes without their knowledge?" Petunia Dursley asked as casually as if she were asking a baker if the loaves of bread he was selling were fresh.

As it was his aunt who had asked, he decided to say something first, not that it helped any. "Not to my knowledge. I thought all that kind of thing went out of practice in England four or five hundred years ago."

"That was in the muggle world," Hermione said tightly. "However, the Wizarding World has been stagnant in its social growth for hundreds of years, which is why it still holds to many Elizabethan customs and prejudices. But even so, marriage betrothals, which are basically marriage contracts, are rare in this day and age, and even then are used primarily by the older pure blood families."

"How dare you cast your aversions on the time honored traditions of the Wizarding world!" Susan yelled.

The shouting was the last straw for Hermione. The very thought that Harry would be taken away from her began to become overwhelming. The bushy-haired witch bolted for the doorway, as she was about to lose her battle with holding back her tears. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye, and with his quick reflexes, managed to reach out and grab her hand, pulling her close to him. Not wanting to fight him, she settled for crying into his shoulder.

Hannah put a hand on Susan's shoulder, giving her a slight shove.

"Sorry," the redhead witch managed to say. "I've been wound up about this for quite a while."

"Ms. Bones," Harry spoke gruffly. "Have you ever even been out into the Muggle world?"

"Well, no," she admitted. "But I am among the top of my class in Muggle Studies. Or at least I used to be until the curriculum was changed."

"It was updated," Petunia ratified. "It was hopelessly out of date. Any pure bloods trying to use that material for guidelines to pass unnoticed in the muggle world would cause the exact opposite result. It was a very real threat to your—our statutes of secrecy."

"It couldn't be that far off," Hannah said. "Could it?"

"Definitely," the older witch confirmed. "Now please tell me why anyone would force two teens that hardly know each other to get married?"

"Um." Hannah glanced about nervously. "For tying allegiances between the two families, Lady Ravenclaw."

"While I didn't know her husband very well, I have a hard time believing my sister would have agree to something like that."

"Hmm? No." Susan responded. "The marriage contract wasn't created by either of the Potters. It was only created and put into effect two years ago."

"By who?" hissed Harry, his magic starting to become visible around him similar to the Aurora Borealis on the North night sky. "Not by my parents, that's for sure! They were already dead a decade!"

Hannah desperately poked Susan in the shoulder, until the redhead swatted her hand away. "The betrothal contract was made and signed by my aunt, Amelia Bones, who is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and your magical guardian."

Harry blinked. "I have a magical guardian?"

Both girls seem confused by his response. "Uh, yes. Everyone raised by muggles does."

"How come I didn't know that then?" Harry demanded.

"I didn't either!" Hermione spoke frigidly, wiping the tear from her face, but now holding tightly onto her boyfriend's arm.

"And neither did I," Petunia stated.

Susan frowned. "Well, I'm sorry to say that doesn't matter, since your magical guardian is in charge of you until you reach your seventeenth birthday which is when the Wizarding World considers witches and wizards adults."

"Wait," Hermione quickly wiped a last tear away. "Since Harry is being allowed to participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, in which only contestants who are of an adult age can participate, doesn't that mean he is now an adult?"

"I'm not sure," Susan admitted. "But I think his magical guardian gave his approval to be in the tournament so that probably doesn't apply."

"Who is this so-called guardian anyway, and where have they been all my life?" seethed Harry.

Susan was now even more unsure. "It-it's Dumbledore."

A low groan emitted from the young contestant. "Of course it is."

"It doesn't make any sense."

Everyone looked to Petunia who was tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"Harry had no need of any magical guardian," Harry's aunt stated.

"But he was raised by muggles," Hannah stated.

"Ah!" Petunia then held up her wand. "But I'm not a muggle!"

"So that means Dumbledore had no right in arranging anything for me!" Harry practically shouted, grabbing Hermione in a tight embrace, which she returned with a slight squeal of delight.

"I don't think he could have enforced it anyway," Petunia added. "If the Goblins are correct and you two have a soul-bond, well, nothing could come between you. Not even a marriage contract."

"But my auntie says that soul-bonds are just made up myths," Susan responded half-heartedly.

Hannah bumped her in the shoulder. "Susan, this means you don't have to marry Harry."

A smile started to appear on the redhead face.

"Wait! You didn't really want to marry Harry?" Hermione said in surprise.

"No. I- oh, let me start at the beginning."

"A very good place to start," Petunia said with a secret smile that she shared with Hermione, who couldn't help shooting a grin back in return.

"About two years ago, my auntie (_She's my guardian_) told me that she and Dumbledore had made a betrothal agreement between the two of us. It was about making a unified political front, which my aunt said they needed to try stop the problems caused by Fudge's incomitance and corruption."

"Why couldn't they just agree to ally together? Why force the two of us into it?"

"Because that is the way it is done in the older families. It ensures that the alliance will be held together for at least one generation, and possibly further."

"So you just accepted it," Petunia said, trying to be the calming force in the room.

"I had no choice, so yes."

"Then why are you confronting Harry about it only now? Why not talk to him about it two years ago?" Hermione asked, biting her lip.

"Dumbledore convinced auntie that Harry wasn't ready to know about the marriage contract yet. And that I should give Harry space until he was ready and became more accustomed to the customs and regulations of the Wizarding world."

"Yet you barged in here as if you thought Harry already knew about the contract," Petunia pointed out.

"Oh, I see. What I left out was that once it became known that Harry was Lord Slytherin, and he also displayed such incredible power during the First Tournament, my auntie insisted to Dumbledore that you and I were to begin to get to know each other. Dumbledore said that he explained things to you, but you insisted on having more time to adjust to the idea. So when I found out that you were taking Hermione to the Yule Ball, I felt incredibly slighted."

"You said you didn't really want Harry," Hermione pondered, as she eased out of the hug with Harry. "Was there someone else you did want to go with to the Yule Ball?"

Crimson colors that nearly matched the hair on her head spread across her face. "Not that it matters, as he is already going with someone else."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Oh!" Hermione brought a hand to her lips in surprise. "The same person that most of the Hufflepuff females have a crush on."

"Uh?" was all a clueless Harry could say.

"Cedric Diggory," his girlfriend said with a shake of her head.

"Oh, yeah, he's kinda already taken by Cho," Harry said without thinking.

"Good guys are hard to come by," Hannah murmured, a guilty blush on her face as well.

Petunia raised her hand slightly. "Harry, if the young ladies are in need of dates for the ball, maybe you know of some of your friends that are available." She gave him a smile, as the mini-crisis had been mostly diverted for now. They would still have to deal with Dumbledore and maybe the Bones woman later.

"I could check in Gryffindor to see who is still available," Harry said, rather reluctantly.

"We could ask Krum about any of his friends in Durmstrang," suggested Hermione. "Decent ones who wouldn't be creepy and all hands."

"They do have some cute boys," admitted Hannah. "Uh, I am also in need of a date," she said quietly, with a smile. "I had been planning to go with Zacharias Smith, but he's proven to be a real jerk lately. So, I am also in need of accompaniment."

"We'll see what we can do," Hermione said, nestled into the crook of Harry's arm. Harry and Hermione will check among their friends to see about potential dates for the two of you. Miss Bones, you should inform your aunt that the contract with Harry is not valid, but that doesn't mean Harry and I are not willing to be part of an alliance."

Susan nodded before hesitantly looking over at Petunia. "Lady Ravenclaw, I should warn you. My auntie can be rather domineering in discussions. Don't be surprised if she tries to convince you to sign another contract binding Harry and I together."

Petunia's lips tightened slightly. "I wouldn't do that."

"I believe you," Susan said. "It's just that when she realizes that won't work, she may try and get you to agree to a contract between me and your son, Dudley. In fact, you should prepare yourself to receive several betrothal offers since he is your only child, so after you, he would be the last heir of Ravenclaw."

There was a small snapping sound that was soon identified as sparks emitting from Petunia's fingertips. "My son is in a relationship," she spoke coolly. "And while the majority of first-time relationships do not work out in the long run, I will always try to give my son and the person he is dating the benefit of the doubt that it could be forever."

Susan swallowed the lump in her throat. "I... yes, I think I would like that as well if I had the opportunity. I just don't think I will. My auntie would have to die before she lined up a marriage contract for me, and I don't wish that on her." She jerked slightly at Hannah taking her hand. She let out a heavy sigh. "Due to the position she has at the DMLE, she had an assassination attempt on her life last year, and two attempts the year before. My auntie stands for justice, which is why certain factions, Fudge included, want her out of office. During the last Wizarding war, her husband had been killed after only a year of marriage, and she was struck with a sterility hex, so not many men wish to pursue her once they learn that. My parents were both killed just a few months before your sister and her husband were. I am all that my auntie has left."

Petunia gave a slow nod. "And that is why she wants to connect you to a promising alliance, so that you would be safe and protected. And hopefully your children after you."

Susan nodded in return, having to wipe a tear away. "Now you understand."

Hermione let out a sigh. "See, now this is just another reason why muggleborns need a class to explain the customs and traditions of the Wizarding world to them."

She felt a poke in the ribs from Harry. "I think you just want more classes to take."

As she rounded on him to tell him off, he had already begun to race out of the room.

"Harry James Potter! You come right back, you... you..."

"I think you are suppose to go after him," Hannah suggested.

"I bet you could easily corner him in a broom closet," Susan added, now grinning from ear to ear.

It was a red faced Hermione that headed out after her boyfriend.

The door to Pomfrey's office opened up, allowing Unspeakable Crescendo and (her?) companions out from their meeting.

"Ah, good, if you will excuse me, ladies, I have to discuss some things with these people. I do hope you are able to find some pleasant dates for the Yule Ball. And if you would inform you aunt about the problem with the marriage contracts, I will do so as well with Dumbledore."

Both girls nodded, glad that they were ending the impromptu discussion on friendly teams, even if things had not turned out as they had expected.

Unnoticed in a nearby corner, a ghostly giggle could be was almost heard by a departing Myrtle as she went to seek out Draco to tell what she had overheard.

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**DECEMBER 19, 1994**

**MONDAY, 5:45 PM**

Vernon sloughed off his coat, wet with melting snow, haphazardly putting it on a coat hook, and turning away, never noticing that it slipped from its hook and fell to the floor. He also didn't hear the house-elf pop to where his wet coat and boots were. The meek house-elf gave a small snap of her fingers, causing the coat, boots and puddles on the floor to dry instantly. The jacket jumped up to the hook looking very neat, while Vernon's boots took in a instant polish.

"There you are," he heard his sister call out from the kitchen. "I didn't think it would take you this long to get home."

"Marge?" He made his way to the kitchen, only to stop when her pudgy dog waddled out, giving him the '_you look quite chewable'_ look. Vernon knew better than to move at this point, as the dog liked to chase things that might run away from him, and with the canine's advanced aged, the eyes weren't the best to the point that the dog might not realize that Vernon was one of the '_do not bite_' category.

Marge came through the kitchen door with two filled wine glasses. "Oh, behave, Ripper. That nasty boy isn't here; that's just Vernon."

The dog sniffed dejectedly, before waddling with a slight limp to his cushioned dog bed.

Marge walked up to Vernon and handed him a wineglass before going over to sit at the couch in the living room. With a heavy sigh, Vernon followed her, putting his glass down on a side table before sitting in his favorite recliner.

"Traffic is horrible in this snow storm," bemoaned Vernon. "I can't remember how many accidents I passed just getting home. In fact, I'm surprised you made it here." He then frowned, "Marge, I didn't see your car out front; did you drive or take a taxi? You weren't involved in an accident, were you?"

She waved her hand dismissively at his concern, nearly spilling her wine. "Never even went outside today."

Vernon frowned at his sister. "Then how did you get here?"

Sipping from her wine glass, Marge snapped her fingers. Almost instantly, a petite house-elf in a pink maid-outfit appeared with a shy smile. "This is Millie. She's one of Samuel Kingson's house-elves that he's borrowed out to me. I had her bring me."

Vernon almost made an outburst. It was only the fact that it was his sister who had brought this thing to his home that kept him from saying anything right away. Well, that and the fact they were such amazing cooks.

"Millie," Marge spoke as if to a small child. "Ripper is in need of a bath. Please do so right away."

Millie's smile wavered, but then gave a firm nod, disappearing with a crack. Ripper did likewise just a moment later from his pillow bed. A startled yelp could be heard from the dog in the upstairs bathroom before it was suddenly silenced.

"Is that safe?" Vernon found himself asking, surprised by the bit of concern for the house-elf having to deal with washing a dog that was nearly the same mass as she was. He knew that Ripper had a temper as well as a bit of a sadistic streak. Harry wasn't the only one that Ripper has taken a bite out of over the years. He himself had been bit twice when the dog was two years old, as had many a mailman and jogger.

"Oh, she wouldn't harm Ripper," assured Marge, dismissively.

He was about to correct her, to let her know where his real concerns had been, but decided to not even bother as he didn't think she would understand. He wasn't sure he understood either. After it had been revealed to Petunia that he had covered up Dudley's accidental fall down the stairs when he was one, he realized just how much in jeopardy his marriage was. His wife and son had turned out to be just like that freak of a nephew of hers. Then finding out his workplace, Grunnings, was owned and run by a bunch of those '_first-born_' wizards or whatever they called themselves. Or maybe it was '_muddle-born_'? And to top it off, Marge had discovered that some of her contacts were from wizarding families. Squibs, yes, he remembered that word, at least. But the squibs were organized, and wanted revenge on being ostracized and kicked out by the very families that should have been watching out for them. So instead they were going to take everything they could from the self-righteous pure-bloods.

"What brings you here, Marge?"

She set her glass down on a coaster, and leaned back with a sigh. "Kingson has a plan that will take Hogwarts from those magical freaks along with a good amount of gold."

Vernon sat up in his chair. "Will it be dangerous?"

She gave a shrug. "Most of it will be handled by lawyers. Fortunately, the law will be on our side."

Vernon had heard many a story of how some lawyer had totally derailed a case against a client, or made the victim the scapegoat. The law had its own magic; the trick was always how to wield it. "How's that?"

She reached over and put a hand on hers. "The key to it all is actually you."

"Me?" Surely he had heard her wrong. "What are you talking about, woman?"

"You have to remember," she said, holding her hand up so that he would give her a chance to explain. "-that we are talking about a people who are centuries behind us in the matters of technology, fashion, law, cleanliness, and so many other things. But, it is in the area of the law that we have them. You see, their laws make it so that a husband has full rights over his wife and any properties she may own, which would be the dowry."

"How does that help?"

Marge grinned evilly. "Because your wife is descended from that Ravenclaw dame, she owns a fourth of the castle."

"That's doesn't do any good!" he snapped at his sister. "I've been told that you'd need at least half ownership to enforce anything."

Marge cackled. "And who, Vernon dear, who is the other only known owner of the castle? Who has the other one-fourth?"

"That damn nephew of mine! Harry Potter! That's who!" Vernon practically spat, as anger and frustration built inside him. "And that is why Petunia couldn't enforce anything at that castle without her nephew agreeing to it."

Marge leaned onto the side of her chair, nearly threatening to tip it over or crush the arm of the chair. "No, no, no," she sang out annoyingly. "You forget, dear brother. That nephew of yours is a minor, and as such, he is under the authority of his older family members, who happens to be your wife. And as I said before, you control everything that belongs to your wife. So..."

"I would control his portion, too," he stated flatly, falling back into the back of his recliner. He tried to gauge his wife's reaction if he went along with this. No matter how he worked it, he could not put a positive spin on his actions. He wasn't fool enough to ignore the fact that his marriage was already near rocky shores, and that any misstep on his part could ruin everything.

"Oh, and Vernon," she said. "Kingson also tells me that he believes that Harry comes from an old family line that is believed to be very rich."

"How rich?" he asked skeptically.

She tossed him a shiny golden object that he managed to barely catch. Upon examining it, he saw that is was a gold coin with a large G stamped on it. Even he could tell that it was solid gold.

"Kingson believes your nephew has at least a couple million just like that in that magic bank of theirs. And you being Petunia's husband, can legally go in and get your hands on it."

His breath started catching in his throat as he had to keep from having a panic attack. He quickly drained down his drink and sank back into his recliner, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief.

"If I did all that, she could very well divorce me," he finally said, voicing his real concerns.

"Wouldn't happen," Marge said as waved her hand as if to wave the very thought away.

"You don't know that!" he practically shouted.

She sighed dramatically. "What I meant was that the Wizarding world she has recently gotten so cozy with doesn't accept divorces. She is stuck with you, dear brother."

She watched Vernon carefully as he took in all of what she had told him. Marge snapped her fingers, and Millie appeared with a slight crack that Vernon didn't even seem to register.

"Two more drinks for us, Millie," she commanded dismissively. "And some appetizers."

The house-elf, her pink outfit wet and covered with suds, disappeared at almost the same time as the items that Marge had asked for had arrived.

"Those fre-…, er, witches and wizards wouldn't stand for it. They would retaliate. And be out for blood. My blood. And besides, you didn't see how powerful my nephew is now. Even the rest of his kind are amazed and frightened by him. There is no way he wouldn't put a stop to this."

Marge showed her teeth as she smiled wickedly. "Kingson has an answer for that, too."

She pulled out a magical picture of a wizarding family at a picnic in the country, placing it between them. Then she took out a small plastic pellet, and while holding it over the picture, she squeezed it so that it popped and poured an orange gel onto it. There was a brief glow, but the results were nearly instantaneous, causing the photograph to become still, and thus indistinguishable between that of a regular muggle photograph. Kingson's people have come up with this. It doesn't have a name yet, but it stops magic from working, so you can see how that would be useful. He has hundreds of gallons of the stuff loaded into paintball capsules, as well as several other ways to deploying it."

Vernon downed the contents of the second glass, barely noticing the taste.

"Why is Kingson so committed to doing this?" he finally asked.

"Revenge for being looked down upon and then kicked out of his family without a pound to his name." She sipped her drink more conservatively. "He's also from a well-established old family. They had evidently cared for him a lot when he was younger, but as he grew older and displayed no signs of magic, they began to become less and less patient with him, until finally his own father, who had recently become the head of the House of Prince, banished him to our civilization. In his anger of being rejected, Samuel changed his name to Kingson, so that he would no longer bare the same name, but at the same time, always remember the people that threw him away for something that wasn't really his fault."

"That explains why he has an ax to grind," he admitted. Gently, he rubbed his forehead in an effort to ease the forthcoming headache. "When is this all supposed to happen?"

"Soon!" she said gleefully. "Very soon!"

He had to think how he felt about that. So many things could go wrong. And he and his family would be right in the middle of it all. Petunia might not see that he was doing it all for them. He hoped he could convince her of that when it was over. Once he had control of Hogwarts and put those magical freaks in their place, she would see that. Right?

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**DECEMBER 19, 1994**

**MONDAY, 9:35 PM**

**TEACHERS QUARTERS OF ALASTOR '****_MAD-EYE_****' MOODY**

**HOGWARTS**

"Turn."

The portrait of Salazar Slytherin scanned the pages of the book in front of him, frowning at what he was reading. Barty Crouch, Jr., who was masquerading as a scarred up former auror who looked like he had been repeatedly mutilated over his year, had left for the evening to search in the library for something to help him in the ways of communication. The man waited until evening to do his searching as he wanted to not have students underfoot. Or other teachers, either.

Fortunately, Crouch had laid out a book for Salazar to read in his absence, including using a spell he knew so that the pages of the book would respond to certain words. Currently, he was reading _Hogwarts – A History_, which was proving to be very upsetting. It was a far cry from the book that Rowena and Helga had been working on in some of the last of his true memories, those memories from when he had been alive. No, someone had severely edited events from his time. Since it had originally been written over a thousand years ago, it had probably been edited, and even censored at times, by many people, all with their own reasons for doing so.

It still made him angry.

~_Come to my call_.~

Reading the history of the castle was informative. But he had been there during its construction. He knew things about Hogwarts that had never been told to anyone or written down. Such as small magical glyphs of serpents that he had placed in every room of the castle, including the very room that Crouch Jr. believed to be completely secure.

An indentation in the shape of a serpent grew across a bare stone section of the wall. ~_Master calls?_~

Salazar lowered his head in contemplation. "There are things to be done."

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Wow! It's been a year since I started this story. I'm rather impressed with how well it's turned out. A year ago, my wife, kids and I, went to stay at a beach house with my wife's extended family. It was a great time. Even on the one rainy day, we didn't mind being stuck all together. And it was on that rainy day that I sat down and started writing this story. And in about ten days we are all heading out to the beach again! I just hope we all enjoy it as much as last time._

_I think I handled the Bones/Potter Martial Contract well. Plus, the added bonus of Myrtle spying for Draco. But stirring up the Vernon and Marge conspiracy was the main point of this chapter._

_As for Samuel Kingson, if you didn't catch the not-so-subtle hint, the Prince family that he is related to is the same one that Severus Snape is. I don't think anyone figured that out before now. The only real hint I left for people was the last name: Kingson. And a king's son is a __prince__._


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**DECEMBER 20, 1994**

**TUESDAY, 10:30 PM**

**GRYFFINDOR TOWER, FOURTH YEAR BOYS BATHROOM**

Harry was looking in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. He paused for a moment to trace his faded lightning shaped scar on his forehead. He had been checking it regularly to make sure it didn't return. He still didn't know what had been wrong with his scar, but since his aunt had somehow pulled out whatever had been stuck inside his scar right before the First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he felt more like himself, like he was truly himself. The thought of it returning to his scar for some reason filled him with dread. But so far he seemed safe.

As he returned to brushing his teeth, he began to reflect on his day. Potions with Snape had not been as bad. The most remarkable part being that when Seamus had managed to somehow set his potion-filled cauldron, Snape had merely put out the fire, banished the contents of the cauldron, and told him to begin again. There had been no points taken away or even a detention assigned. Several people almost had another accident with their brewing after that.

History Of Magic had come as a welcome relief. Professor Andromeda Tonks was a much more interesting than the ghost of Binns. It helped to reinforce the belief that Binns had to have been as boring alive as he had been dead since Andromeda's guest speaker, the ghostly Friar, was much more interesting in his retelling of the times in which he lived. He also brought forth much more interesting information about the Third Goblin Revolt that brought more reasoning for both sides of the interracial incursion.

Lunch had been nice, though the torches throughout the castle had to be set at a higher temperature in order to ward off the winter chill. Lavender had taken the opportunity of so many people present to make a list to confirm who was going with whom. There were already the obvious couples – Harry with Hermione, Lavender with Dudley, Ginny with Dean, Neville with Luna. Newly added to her list was Ron with Katie Bell, and she had said yes much to Ron's relief. Seamus had asked Romilda Vane a few days before and just hadn't mentioned it before then. The Patil twins had accepted date requests from some of the boys from Durmstrang. After that Lavender had a second list for couples outside of Gryffindor. The most noteworthy was when it was revealed that Viktor Krum had asked Penelope Clearwater as his date. Also that Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott had dates from the Durmstrang Institute, as had Daphne Greengrass. Vincent Crabbe was going with Millicent Bulstrode, but the big surprise from Slytherin had been that Pansy Parkinson was said to be going with Theodore Nott. What Draco was making out of this upset in the Slytherin social circle, nobody knew, only that he wasn't reacting to it. Draco's non-response actually concerned Harry, as he was unprepared for Draco to act like a true Slytherin for a change.

After lunch, Harry had a free hour while Hermione was in Arithmancy, so he worked on his Charms homework. He had been half through the hour when he was told by the message on a paper airplane that crashed into his ear that he was needed to bring a new arrival down to the Chamber of Secrets. Going to the Entrance Hall, he met Professor McGonagall and a small, young, dark-haired woman named Natasha, who was introduced as Charlie Weasley's girlfriend. She was a kind and thoughtful woman, which Harry found to be surprising as she had taken a career in caring for dragons. Any doubts that Harry had were totally undone in the flood of questions Natasha sprang upon him on their way to the Chamber of Secrets. However, even reconnecting to Charlie wasn't enough to distract the female dragon handler as she soon had Harry translating for her as she conversed with a dragon for the first time in her life. It had also come as surprise to her that when she asked what things the dragon handlers could do to make the preserves nicer for the dragons, all three dragons said they wish the lakes and rivers had more fish in them to eat.

Later he had found Hermione in the library where they chatted quietly until it was time to go down for dinner. After dinner, there had been a mandatory attendance in a large room on the sixth floor where Professor McGonagall helped instructed everyone in the art of dancing so that, in her words, they '_wouldn't disgrace Gryffindor_'. Harry had struggled at the movement of the music while trying to stay off of Hermione's feet, and had failed miserably. Fortunately Hermione suggested that he think of dancing the same way he flew on his broom. It took him a few moments but soon he was sweeping the floor with a laughing Hermione, much to McGonagall's amusement.

Harry was interrupted from his introspection during his attempt to tame his hair, by a tapping at the window. He opened the small bathroom window to let in a determined white owl along with a burst of frigid cold air being blown in by a strong wind.

"Oi!"

"Sorry, Neville!" he called out to the boy in one of the showers. "Late owl delivery," he explained.

"A little warning next time," Neville answered from the other side of the shower curtain.

Chuckling, Harry went to their dorm room, bringing Hedwig with him on his extended arm. "Hedwig, it looks miserable out there. Thanks for flying my order out and bringing back the package." Gently brushing off some of the wet snow from of Hedwig's feathers first, Harry gentle scratched under her neck feathers tenderly.

Ron and Seamus looked up from their chess game at Harry as he walked in with Hedwig. Next to the fireplace, Dean was sketching a snow fight scene that he planned to animate later.

"Hey, Harry," Dean said looking up at the nearing Gryffindor seeker. "Late night delivery?"

"Yeah." He stopped next to an owl stand near the fireplace. "Hey, cover your paper. Hedwig is about to-"

The owl in question stood tall on the perch and gave herself a mighty full body shake, sending melted snow everywhere.

Without realizing he was doing so, Harry created a mystical sparkly dome around the snowy owl, which kept the sudden icy spray from landing on any of the occupants in the dorm, not to mention Dean's drawing."

"Merlin, Harry!" Dean looked up at him wide-eyed. "You did that without saying an incantation!"

"He didn't use a wand either!" Seamus pointed out.

"Um, I just reacted," Harry managed to say, feeling awkward at the attention. He glanced over to Ron only to see jealousy rising up in him.

"It was just accidental magic," grumbled Ron. "We all did that kind of stuff when we were younger, before we learned to control our magic."

Harry couldn't help but feel slighted by his friend who was purposefully putting him down. Reaching into himself, he sought to replicate the dome. "Isn't that what wandless magic is, Ron?" He sent his magic out, and it created another dome around an amused Hedwig. "Wandless magic is just accidental magic that we have learned to control." Focusing on the sparkly aspects of the dome, he caused the sparkles to slowly move through a prism of colors. "See?"

Dean and Seamus were both impressed, but Harry noted that Ron seemed to be in even more of a huff. But before Ron could storm out, Dean stood up.

"So what you are saying is," began Dean, "that I should still be able to wandlessly make one of my pictures animate like I did when I first did magic at age seven?"

Hesitantly, Harry looked into the searching faces around him, all, even Ron, curious as to what he would say. "Technically, yeah, you should be able to. You just have to reach into yourself, think of how the magic moved through you at that event, and try and make it respond the same way. It might be more difficult for you since you haven't done it wandlessly in so long and you've learned to rely on your wand so much when using magic. Or maybe I am completely wrong, and your constant use of magic has made you more familiar as to how it should go. All I know for sure is that you won't succeed at it if you don't even try."

Harry turned to Seamus. "What was the first bit of accidental magic you did?"

Seamus' face colored in embarrassment. "I, uh, turned a bunch of apples into eggs."

"That's not that bad," Dean remarked.

"Me mum and I were under an apple tree at the time. She didn't have time to shield us from the fallout."

Dean sported a grin. "So the _yolk_ was on you, then, yeah?" Seamus chuckled in response.

"How is turning an apple into an egg supposed to help him learn wandless magic?" Ron snorted.

Harry finally let down the dome around Hedwig as he gave Ron his full attention. "If Seamus was able to do it once, he can do it again. He just has to work at it. And if he is able to learn that, then he can use that feat as a stepping stone to learning how to do other spells wandlessly. "

"That would be cool," Dean murmured.

Harry had Dean and Seamus on board with the idea, now he just had to get through to Ron, hopefully defusing this new bout of stupid jealousy. "Ron, what was your first bout of accidental magic?"

The ginger-haired young wizard froze, and gazed at his feet while his cheeks turned a ruddy hue. At one point he mumbled something that could not be heard or understood with human ears.

"What was that?" Seamus asked, sensing an embarrassing story.

Ron hunkered down, at first refusing to tell the story, but ultimately knew it was futile with the twins and Ginny at Hogwarts. "Mum tried to make me eat liver and broccoli when I was five. My magic made the plate grow legs and run out of the house."

"Wait, the plate grew legs, were animated, and aware enough to navigate its way outside your home?" Dean said with surprise.

"How long did it stay mobile?" Harry asked.

"Um, it took to roaming among the Gnomes in the garden. Mum had my brothers out hunting it every day until they caught it five or six days later. Dad set the plate back to normal, though he had to repair it first since Charlie had broken off a section that had one of the leg when he made his grab for it."

"Seriously?" asked Dean. "That's incredible!"

"And it lasted at least five days?" Seamus stared in amazement. "That would be incredible even if you did it with a wand!"

"Don't forget he was five at the time," Harry added.

Ron looked at him in surprise, unsure what was going on.

"Merlin!" exclaimed Dean. "If you could manage to do that now, you'd be almost up there with McGonagall and Dumbledore!"

Harry thought that rather extreme, but decided to let it slide. "If he did it once, technically he should be able to do it again." But then added, "It would take time and effort on his part to train himself."

Ron frowned. He knew he was being a snit to Harry just because he had created that dome all of a sudden. Well, a jealous prat, anyway. But for some reason Harry, instead of calling him or it or even ridiculing his first bout of accidental magic like his brothers had, suggested that Ron could actually perform higher feats of wandless magic than most.

"I don't see what good making plates get up and run away would do anyone any good?" Ron said, with just a bit of sulkiness in his voice.

"You could use it on Malfoy's plate," Seamus pointed out. "He'd probably chase it all over the Great Hall. And plus, if it's wandless magic, it'll be really hard for anyone to identify the culprit. Fred and George might even be blamed for it."

That interested Ron, and he sat up straight, his attention fully given. Fred and George were often blamed for pranks that were not theirs, and they didn't mind as long as it was actually funny. In fact that was how they became such good friends with Lee Jordan. Back in his first year, Lee had pulled a prank on an arrogant Seventh Year Ravenclaw that had caused him to sing a high soprano for two days, and, if the rumors are correct, colored a certain part of his anatomy blue. Fred and George, already known around the school are serial pranksters, had been in their second week of detention with Filch before they had learned it had been Lee Jordan that had pulled the prank. They had been the best of friends ever since.

"There is that," admitted Harry. "But I was thinking of the fact that most witches and wizards forget how to do wandless magic, and they become reliant on their wands. If they become separated from their wand due to an accident or it's taken by Death Eaters, they are powerless. But if they manage to learn how to perform magic without their wand, so many opportunities become available to them. Maybe a stunning or shielding spell during an attack. Or a summoning or banishing charm during an emergency. Seamus could even just use it to keep from setting himself on fire. And Dean could use it to color some of his artwork."

Ron threw his hands in the air. "So what? You expect me to send a set of running dishes at Death Eaters?"

Harry let out a heavy sigh. It's moments like this when Hermione would usually take the lead and set Ron straight. Harry Hadn't realized just how frustrating that was. He'd have to add another special present to her Christmas pile as a thank you.

Harry made another attempt to get through to him. "Ron, you can learn to do more than animate dishes. If the Death Eaters think you are powerless, it could totally take them by surprise. For instance, you could make a statue of a lion fight Death Eaters for you."

The redhead stared at him in shock. "You think so?"

Harry nodded. "It's possible."

"Hey!" Dean called out. "I just wandlessly made my drawing throw a snowball!"

The others huddled together to see Dean's drawing. Sure enough, one figure in a snow fort could be seen throwing a snowball at another character. It missed by quite a bit, and the snowball disappeared. Four seconds later the figure would repeat the throw with the same exact results. Nothing else in the picture moved, but it was still remarkable as a first attempt of wandless magic.

"I'm going to get a dozen apples to practice on tomorrow," Seamus remarked.

Ron nodded. "I'll need some plates, too. Minus the liver and broccoli."

"I dunno. The liver and broccoli could be the catalyst you need to figure it out," Harry said with a smirk, soon mirrored by Dean and Seamus.

Ron looked green at the thought of a plate of liver and broccoli in front of him. "I, uh, think I'll try without the liver and broccoli first, thanks all the same."

"Why are you all talking about liver and broccoli?" Neville asked, coming in wrapped in a towel.

The others just broke out in laughter.

Harry used the distraction to retrieve the package from Hedwig and put it in his trunk with the other Christmas presents he had yet to wrap.

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**DECEMBER 21, 1994**

**WEDNESDAY, 11:40 AM**

**THE GREAT HALL, HOGWARTS**

As it seemed that the last of the students had come in to the Great Hall for lunch, Professor McGonagall excused herself from her discussion with Professor Tonks and Madame Maxime and made her way over to the speaking platform.

Albus Dumbledore turned from a discussion with Professor Flitwick about a sudden rise of interest in wandless magic among some of the Fourth Year students to see what the deputy headmaster was doing.

"Err, Minerva?"

"Yes, headmaster?" she said, stopping almost in front of the podium.

"What are you doing?"

She gave him a curious look. "Didn't you get the memo?"

"Memo?"

"Yes, the memo I sent."

He stroked his beard in what he was sure was one of competent authority. "I don't believe I did. Though now that I think of it, I believe all of my internal castle memos go to you for handling."

"Ah, yes, that could be the problem," she said with a heavy sigh. "I really need to have you manage your own mail. I already have teaching and grading to do for all my classes as well as being the Head of Gryffindor, not to mention also being the deputy headmaster to you. No, I'm afraid you will have to manage your own memos from now on."

"Fine, fine," he said dismissively. "I didn't realize that I was overburdening you."

"Well, you have been. Now if you don't mind?" She motioned to the speaker's podium.

"Oh, yes, go ahead." He was somewhat annoyed. He held three positioned after all – Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. True, he had minions, or the more politically correct term would be secretaries and aids, to do most of the handling of things, so that he would only have to show up at the Wizengamot at the appropriate times, handling most things during the summer. He would truly be lost in all the goings on in the Wizengamot if it were not for Edmund Blackadder, who was truly gifted in political espionage, even though his bills were rather pricey. If only Minerva could be as dedicated as Edmund was, then he could focus on the more important things. Like getting the Dursleys, and perhaps even Potter, out of Hogwarts before they began to abuse their authority as Heirs of the Four Founders. There was also the matter of Harry's unusually powerful magical core that must be tied into the control rods he had placed in young Harry all those years ago. And how had Harry's name been placed in the goblet? He took a sip on honeyed mead before muttering to himself, "Heavy is the head that wears so many hats." He considered the fact that his deputy was hinting to him that he was trying to juggle too many things. Maybe she was even right. But, then the truly difficult thing would be which one or two should he resign from? Could he do that to the British Wizarding world? With the likes of Malfoy eager to snap up the empty position? He shuddered at the very thought.

It wasn't until Minerva started speaking at the podium that he realized that he had no idea what it was that she was about to address the students about.

"Good afternoon, everyone. Before we bring forth our lunch, there is an item of importance to inform you of. That being, after having a discussion with Lord Slytherin and Lady Ravenclaw, they have decided to give sanctuary at Hogwarts, to the Azkaban escapee Sirius Black-"

Pandemonium erupted throughout a majority of the hall. Even a few of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students looked alarmed. Before things could get too out of hand, Professor McGonagall used her wand to send a series of thunderclaps into the air, to regain their attention.

"As I was saying, Sirius Black has been provide sanctuary at Hogwarts until such a time as the Department of Magical Law Enforcement can guarantee that he will finally be given a trial for that which he had been incarcerated for twelve years."

Murmurs rose through the rows of students, many turning to those closest to confirm what they had just been told.

"Yes, you have heard correctly," McGonagall responded, nodding wearily. "The last heir of an Ancient and Noble House has been incarcerated in Azkaban for twelve years. Even worse, after escaping from illegal imprisonment, an order that he be '_kissed upon capture_' order had been put in place two years ago." She let her eyes slowly go over the students, studying their reactions. "After Lord Slytherin and Lady Ravenclaw learned of this, they wanted to ensure that justice prevailed. So they used their ability here at Hogwarts to put into effect sanctuary for him until this '_error of justice_' could be addressed."

Many eyes turned to look at Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table, and at his aunt who sat at the High Table next to Professor Flitwick.

"How do we know that Black doesn't have Potter and Dursley under a spell?" came a yell from the Slytherin tables from an unnamed source who had purposely ignored their titles.

"Because I will attest to it under veritaserum!" shouted a loud voice. Then, with a quick removal of the invisibility cloak he had been using, stood Sirius Black standing proud before him much like a muggle stage magician would after completing a spectacular trick. "I believe veritaserum would be much better proof of my innocents than the gobs of money many of your Death Eater parents used to keep themselves out of Azkaban!"

Screams rang out again, only stilling when McGonagall used her wand to fire off several more thunder cracks.

Minerva used her wand to summon a chair and had Sirius sit in it, which Sirius gleefully did.

Madame Pomfrey quickly walked over to them and held out a small vial, which she handed over to Minerva.

Professor McGonagall once more addressed the school. "Because this is a school, and I do not wish to upset the peace of mind of its students be causing them to think they are in danger, I have requested Sirius Black to publicly take veritaserum so that you would know if he were innocent or not. Because if he is innocent, he is therefore not a threat to any of you."

She looked out at the sea of wide-eyed students, and was glad she had their full attention. She had originally asked Severus to bring out the veritaserum, as the students would consider him the most authoritative voice in the castle when it came to potions, but he had refused once he was told what it was for. But Snape was not the only one known for knowing their potions. Poppy was clear and precise when she told her captive audience what was in the bottle, even verifying it with a spell in front of all of them. The med-witch then administered the man the prescribed amount of drops that caused Sirius's eyes to become glazed over.

"What is your name?" Minerva began.

"Sirius Black. Also known as '_Padfoot_'." He paused for a moment before adding, "And '_Snuffles_'."

There was a slight outburst at the Gryffindor table, causing McGonagall to send a severe look at the Weasley twins who were behaving like Christmas had come early.

"Now to verify that the truth serum is actually working." McGonagall started to slowly walk around Sirius, much like a cat that was toying with a mouse. "There was an incident in your Seventh Year. Someone managed to break into my quarters and remove some of my belongings. Who did it and why?"

Sirius flinched, a sure sign that he was fighting the potion he was under. "Peter Pettigrew had lost a special map of ours to Filch. As punishment, we, being James Potter, Remus Lupin and I, had Pettigrew sneak into your quarters to steal your knickers."

"What did you do with my undergarments?" she said in a cold and deadly tone, ignoring the snickering from the students and a few staff members.

"For the second part of Peter's punishment, he had to wear your knickers every day until the end of the school year."

McGonagall could only gape at him while the rest of the Great Hall broke out into laughter. To think that Pettigrew had been sitting in her class while wearing her stolen undergarments, … it just boggled her mind. It wasn't until a minute later that she remembered herself and sent up more thunder claps.

"I think we can say we have established that Mr. Black is under the influence of the veritaserum." She cleared her voice. "Now, Mr. Black, can you tell us if you were responsible for the attack that led to the deaths of James and Lily Potter?"

"Partially, but not intentionally."

"Clarify your answer for me, Mr. Black."

From there he went to explain that he had believed that it would soon become obvious to the Dark Lord that the Potters were hidden under the Fidelius Charm. And that he would be the most likely person to be the Secret Keeper. He went on to explain how they had asked Peter Pettigrew to be the Secret Keeper instead. He covered rushing to the Potters only to find their place destroyed, and Hagrid taking Harry away, refusing to give him to his godfather because he was following Dumbledore's orders. The incident with the death of the twelve muggles and supposed murder was also described, everyone sitting on the edge of their seats as they listened to the monotone voice of the wanted man.

"How did Pettigrew escape?"

"He transformed into his animagus shape of a rat. Wormtail then ran into the pipes that had been revealed after the street had exploded."

" '_Wormtail_'? What do you mean by saying '_Wormtail_'?"

" '_Wormtail_' was Peter Pettigrew's Marauder name."

"Extrapolate, please."

"The Marauders were a group four of us Gryffindor students put together during our school years at Hogwarts, dedicated to support each other and provide pranking fun everywhere we went. The group began forming when we realized that one of our dorm mates was unusually sick around the time of the full moon, and was always overnight at in the hospital wing during these time, so we extrapolated that Remus Lupin was a werewolf."

Gasps filled the Great Hall along with a few outcries as the students realized that Dumbledore had allowed a werewolf student attend the school over a decade ago. Whispers started quickly from the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables about speculation of what other half-breeds might have attended in Hogwarts in secrecy. They knew about Professor Flitwick being half or quarter Goblin, but that might have been before Dumbledore was headmaster. Hagrid had been in speculation for years as to whether his size was the result of being a half-Giant or due to a bad case of permanent magical mishap. Perhaps even some of their very year mates were half-breeds, maybe even dangerous ones. How were they to know? All they could be sure of at this point was that Dumbledore and the staff wouldn't tell them.

Dumbledore did not look pleased from where he sat in his chair. While most knew about Remus Lupin was a werewolf after it had been revealed at the end of the last school year, few had learned that Lupin had actually been a werewolf at the time he had been a student at Hogwarts. There would be political flak from this reveal. Of that he could be sure.

Once McGonagall had regained their attention, she had Sirius continue. "And what did you do once you learned about Mr. Lupin's condition?"

"After confirming it, we learned that the werewolf was being kept in the Shrieking Shack during the full moon, and that in it's anger in being confined, that it was hurting itself, and therefore Remus. We read up on werewolves, and James learned from one of his family books that werewolves didn't harm wizards and witches in their animagus form. Once we learned that, James, Peter and I were eager to become animagus so that we could keep the werewolf company so that it wouldn't harm Remus. It took us a year, but we finally managed it and were able to join Remus in the Shack, proving that James' book was correct. None of us were harmed, and the werewolf loved the new playmates."

Minerva had been shocked that they had learned to do such magic on their own. And at such a young age. True, Remus and James were among the top of their class in most subjects, with Sirius following close after, as had Peter. Whoever had written out the instructions must have been able to come with a more simplistic method then the one she had learned.

"What were your animagus forms?"

"Peter became that of a rat, who we call Wormtail. James was that of a stag, otherwise known as Prongs. I can take the shape of a black dog and my Marauder name is Padfoot. Remus was unable to become an animagus as he was already a werewolf, so his Marauder name is-"

"Moony!" shouted out the Weasley twins who had jumped up and began to dance a merry jig, much to most everyone's surprise.

It was only McGonagall's threat to have them leave that had the two boys sit quietly back down, though nothing could stop the beaming looks they had on their faces.

"So going back to what you were saying earlier, Pettigrew turned into his animagus shape of a rat and ran into the underground pipes of the street to escape, correct?"

"Yes."

"Why did none of this come out in your questioning by the aurors?"

"I was never questioned."

An uproar started to build, only silenced when McGonagall turned and gave the students a scathing glare.

"What did happen after your arrest then?"

"I had been hit with a silencing spell, then thrown in a cell for a day. When I thought someone was coming to talk to me, either an auror or lawyer, I was simply stunned the moment the door opened. When I woke, I was in a cell in Azkaban. I tried talking to the aurors on duty there, only to be systematically beaten each time. The guards there didn't care if I was innocent or not; they were the lowest of the aurors, but the prisoners were lower than they were, which the guards loved to remind us."

A commotion began at the Slytherin table, which quickly revealed itself to be Draco Malfoy standing on his seat. "Sirius Black is obviously traumatized by having been a Dementor chewtoy during his twelve years in Azkaban, and being remorseful of his criminal actions, he built a modified memory to make it seem that he was the innocent one in all this. In fact, I, as the only heir to the House of Black, find his statement is proof as evidence to his being mentally incompetent, and therefore say he be must be dismissed from that position, leaving me no choice but to immediately take on that role myself," he said with a smug grin.

There were several chortles, and a few people from that table actually rose to congratulate him on his quick move from taking the victory from the light.

"Except you aren't the only heir," they all heard Sirius say. "And you are for sure not next in line to take on the position of the next Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black."

Draco gapped like a fish out of water for a moment. "I am too! My mother and father told me so!"

"Just because your parents say it, doesn't necessarily make it true. You, of all the students here, should know better than to believe what _your_ parents say," Sirius casually remarked. "Several months before I was illegally incarcerated, I had set up my will, which would also come into play if I was declared mentally incompetent. My heir is to be given all moneys and any positions I were to have bestowed upon me. My first heir is Nymphadora Tonks, the daughter of one of my cousins. In fact Nymphadora is also one of your cousins."

"She's no cousin of mine!" Draco countered." Her mother had run off, ignoring a family marriage contract, all for the sake of marrying a mudblood! She had been expelled from the Black family!"

"Ten points from Slytherin, and detention tonight with me!" McGonagall responded coldly.

"My second heir is my godson - Harry Potter."

"He's not even a Black!"

"Another ten points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy. And another night's detention," McGonagall sounded out.

"Harry does have Black blood," Sirius continued. "His grandmother was Dorea Potter nee Black."

"I don't care!" Malfoy shouted. "Potter is a freak and an abomination who should be put down! He's obviously done some kind of power-strengthening ritual in a desperate move to survive and put on a good show after cheating his way into the Tri-Wiza-"

Draco's mouth kept moving, but nothing more could be heard from him thanks to a silencing spell from Professor McGonagall.

"Twenty more points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy, and detention with me for the next two weeks," McGonagall went on to say. "And yes, by all means, do tell your father about this," was her response as Draco continued on silently yelling. That is until she spoke again. "Mr. Malfoy, I will have you know, I can lip read." She watched the boy pale before her as he almost stumbled in his haste to step down to the floor. "If I even hear a whisper of you saying such things out loud about me or anyone else, not only will I stack you with so many detentions that you will rival the record of Sirius Black from when he was a student, but I will also see that you are barred from the Yule Ball." She waited for him to react, but for once he was being smart and looking meekly down at his feet. Minerva turned her head to the far end of the High Table. "Mr. Filch, I hate to trouble you before you have even had a bite. But I believe that it would be better for Mr. Malfoy to start one of his detentions now so that we will have no further interruptions."

Filch grumbled as he rose to his feet to take the spoiled boy out of the Great Hall. He was annoyed at missing anymore of the questioning, though it appeared to be near the end, he had always been willing to abide Minerva as she was the one member of staff who treated him with respect, even if she did have to correct him sometimes on the etiquette he should use when dealing with the students. Behind him, Mrs. Norris stormed after him, the cat instinctively knew that the loud, white-haired boy was the reason she was going to be missing her noon time nibbles.

McGonagall noted the looks of distrust from only a few students who thought Sirius might still be guilty. There were also many glaring eyes from the Slytherin table, mostly upset with her having taken away so many House points from Slytherin.

Once order had been restored, McGonagall had been able to continue her questioning of Sirius, beginning with the reason he finally made his escape from Azkaban.

For his part, Dumbledore could only sit there and watch as all his work was undone. Not that he minded at this point. Now that Harry was no longer a horcrux, he didn't have to die to fulfill the prophecy. At least the headmaster hoped that he didn't. But, regardless, that also meant that he didn't necessarily have to keep Harry away from his godfather as he had intended before. So many changes now, so many possibilities. Harry could even have a life. Unless the prophecy really did mean that Harry and Voldemort had to die together. He just wasn't sure now.

Albus had been a little hurt that Minerva hadn't just come and told him about what she had planned for Sirius. He wouldn't have stopped them. Well, maybe he would have asked them to delay it a while. Like after the Yule Ball. Or after the Third Tournament. But now the cat, or dog, was out of the bag, and he would deal with however it worked out. Fudge was sure to have a fit.

There was also another thing that puzzled him, which was the hateful look that Moody had been sending to Minerva and Sirius. Did the ex-auror think they had overstepped their bounds, or was something else going on here?

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**DECEMBER 21, 1994**

**WEDNESDAY, 11:40 AM**

**JOYFUL VINTNERS**

Marge Dursley sniffed at the wine that had poured for her, trying her best to look proficient at it. Finally she took a sip and studied the taste before swallowing. "A hint of bitterness, but not in a bad way."

"I agree," said the man sitting across from her. Samuel Kingson was a tall, thin man with graying hair, and a large hook nose. He was a very confident man, and wore an expensive suit. "I harvested the grapes for that particular wine twenty-three years ago. There had been a bit of a drought that year and I had to water most of it by hand or hose."

A look of surprise crossed Marge's face. "But you own..." She paused realizing that she had almost mentioned house-elves in public.

"It's okay, Marge." He tapped his cufflink which sparkled for a moment. "No one but the two of us can hear what we say right now."

Marge couldn't help but be impressed. "Right, uh, what I was saying was that you have house-elves. They seem to have more than enough power to water the grapes for you."

The man smiled and shook his head. "While I do have house-elves, I choose to do the vineyard work myself. It means that any change of flavor from year to year is personally due to something I did; it would be my actions that brought about that particular flavor. Besides, my vineyard isn't very large as vineyards go." He sampled some from his glass. "I've nice to taste the fruit of your labor, wouldn't you say, Marge."

Marge nodded.

"Now," he went on, "how did your talk with your brother go?"

She broke out in a toothy grin. "You were right. He was faltering at first. Even after I told him that he would basically own everything through his wife and his nephew, he still wanted to find ways to convince me it wouldn't work. I had to give him three glassfuls of that special drink you made for him before I had him agreeing with me about everything again."

Kingson nodded. "Yes, it had to be a weak loyalty potion set to you. I couldn't be sure of the necessary potency, as he is a muggle, and a large one at that."

"He'll be more thankful about this after Hogwarts is taken over," Marge assured Samuel. "With his wife and son right in the middle of everything, well..."

"A family man, yes, a man should be more protective of his wife and children, not simply casting them aside because of something that was not his or her fault," he responded, his tone going dark.

Marge mentally cursed herself for reminding Kingson about how his family had cast him out for being a squib. She could see him silently brood of his familia upbringing, his eyes focusing on unseen memories. She knew that his childhood was a good part of why Samuel had becoming a lawyer, as that is where the true power was: In the law books! Kingson, and a few other squibs, had built a support group for those being discarded by their very families simply because they didn't have magic within them. Eventually they had begun to pool their resources to seek ways to strike back at the Wizarding world that didn't want them anymore. After studying muggle law, Kingson went on to studying Wizarding law. It was only a matter of time before he finally found a case to take on as he had looked among the many people living in the street in Diagon Alley. At first the judges and lawyers and laughed at him, but he still won, and he won again, and again, much to the Wizarding world's dismay. Samuel's friend, Terence Prewett, an accountant, had explained it best to her: the simple truth of the matter was that not only did wizards and witches have problems with logic, but most didn't have much imagination either.

"Samuel," she said as kindly as she could. "Why don't you take me out to the range to do some shooting? I need to get more practice in before the big day."

That seemed to break through Samuel's gloomy contemplations. "Yes, I think shooting practice is just what the doctor ordered."

"Have you determined the big day yet?" she asked, hopefully.

He broke out in an almost sinister smile before taking a larger than normal sip from his glass. "Have I told you about the Yule Ball being held at Hogwarts?"

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_And a happy birthday to me. Actually my birthday was the 7th, but I almost got it out in time. The trip to the beach was marvelous. It wasn't nearly as stormy as the weather forecast had predicted. Kids loved the water and made a sand castle and I helped to make the moat, before it was all washed away. Sad part was that it was too windy for s'mores. Oh well, everyone had a good time and that is what counts._

_Getting closer to Christmas and the Yule Ball. Events are building up for a series of very big events, I just have to set things up properly._

_Now, I've read several Harry Potter stories where he turns out to be related to one or all of the Founders, but I've never come across one where Harry provides sanctuary for Sirius, so I thought that would be a good angle to work. As an added bonus the Weasley twins now know who the Marauders are._

_Draco had been planning to lay low, but I didn't think he could stop himself with Sirius being exonerated in front of the student body_. _He just can't help himself._

_Yes, the Edmund Blackadder reference was to the Blackadder series, but I think it will just be a onetime reference thing. A cute tidbit, if you will._

_Yes, I did have Marge drug Vernon slightly with a loyalty potion set to Marge in the previous chapter, so I'm sure you can see the conflict this can cause. And, no, I'm not doing this to try make Vernon out to be a better person. I have no tolerance for child abusers, but I only cleared Petunia and Dudley somewhat with the removal of the repressing rods that had been affecting them. They still had to work on their character, as change overnight is no easy thing._

_As I explained last chapter, Samuel Kingson is from the House of Prince and is the uncle of Severus Snape. He also has several unresolved issues to work out._

_And, yes, there is a big event set to happen at the Yule Ball! Yea!_


	23. Chapter 23

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 23**

By Ordinaryguy2

**DECEMBER 31, 1994**

**SATURDAY, 3:21 PM**

**THE HOME OF DELORES UMBRIDGE**

"Urchin!"

A house-elf popped into view looking very humble and dejected. "Yes, Mistress Umbridgey?"

Delores scowled at the lowly creature. If it wasn't for the fact that the beast of burden could maintain her household to her high expectations and provide her preferred diet discreetly, she would have no use for what in her eyes was a magical, verminous pest. "My plans to attend the formal engagement at Malfoy Manor have changed. Instead I will be going to the Yule Ball at Hogwarts, so I will need something less flashy and showing of legs. Bring me a proper selection of dresses from my closet to view."

The house-elf gave a quick curtsey before disappearing in a loud crackling sound.

Umbridge eased out of her high heeled shoes with a sigh of relief before going over to her favorite chair to sit. "Why can't magic make comfortable shoes?" she muttered to herself. Reaching over to the side table next to her, she stroked the stuffed white Persian cat she had placed there. An automated charm made the cat cadaver purr as if it was content.

On the side table on the other side of her chair, a small silver tray with a cup of steaming tea appeared, brought by another house-elf. She watched as her charmed tea set added the correct amounts of cream and sugar, then stirred the tea until it was just perfect.

Picking up the cup, she brought it to her face and inhaled the wondrous aroma as she gazed around at some of the many pictures of cats that graced her walls (she preferred cat portraits to those of her ancestors. After all there was less complaints to how she did things from the cats.). As she took her first sip she reflected on her sudden change of plans. The newest office boy Crouch had hired, the one he always calls '_Weatherby_' instead of his real name – Weasley. She had come across Percy Weasley boasting to one of the file clerks at the Ministry how Barty had taken ill, and was entrusting the young man with his duties as a Tournament judge to stand in for him at the Yule Ball.

The very idea of someone as low in station as Percy Weasley filling in for an upstanding Wizarding citizen like Bartemius Crouch made her hackles rise. Crouch had been the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement during the Wizarding War! True, his son, Barty Crouch, Jr., had turned out to be one of the Death Eaters in the Dark Lord's army, but many unexpected turns had happened during the war. After it had come out that Crouch's son had not only been a secret Death Eater, but had also been one of those that had tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity with the Cruciatus curse, he had to resign from his position. He had been fortunate to be put in charge of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, but that may have been a pity gift after it was learned that his son had died in Azkaban, and his wife soon after that.

She shook herself out of her reflection. No, she wasn't going to allow Weasley to screw up something on Crouch's watch. No, she was determined to do what was right. She had told the redheaded pipsqueak that to his face. And that if anyone asks what she was doing at Hogwarts that he was to say that she was his date.

That had shut him up. He had even looked like he was about to cry, much to her delight. She loves making people miserable, which is why she was perfectly suited to working in the Ministry.

Urchin then appeared with a sudden crack with seven dresses floating behind her. Finally, Delores looked up at the dresses floating behind the house-elf – all pink, giving Urchin a second to banish the wet, chewed hairball out of the house before it was noticed again.

"All such lovely dresses," Delores remarked as she reached out to touch one. "Sequins? Rhinestones? No, probably not. Have that dress moved over by that wall."

Urchin removed the possible rejected dress quickly as her mistress considered the others. Usually during workdays, Delores would follow a system of what she would wear like clockwork. It was only for big events that she would consider the more extravagant dresses she had in her closet, sometimes choosing and rejecting dresses several times before settling on one.

Umbridge examined another dress, this one was lightly coated with fake frost and tiny sparkly icicles. "Hmm, it is winter. This is definitely a maybe." She waved to the other far wall for Urchin to put that dress while the witch moved to the next dress.

"I should treat this visit to Hogwarts as a fact-finding mission. The research I've put together has given me a fool-proof way to rid the school of that Potter and Dursleys. The changes that they have been making to the classes, even reinstating some that had been done away with, and creating others that have to do with the Muggle world. How arrogant of them! Who did they think they were? And giving sanctuary to the mass murderer Sirius Black! Outrageous! It has the earmarks of Dumbledore all over it. I've been warning Fudge about him for years, and now he is actually starting to listen. I may not know how Black had faked being under veritaserum when being questioned, but I know he did. He must have had help faking the pensieve memory, too, and I will be able to find them out at Hogwarts. For the betterment of the Wizarding world, I must do this! I will do this!" She cackled into the air, momentarily forgetting about the dresses she had been examining.

Urchin twitched pitifully. She had hoped her mistress would resume perusing the dresses on her own. She had strict instructions to make sure that Delores did not monolog and/or manically laughing for too long a time that she became late for other events. And Delores hated being interrupted. But it would be even worse for Urchin if the house-elf didn't keep her mistress on her schedule.

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**DECEMBER 31, 1994**

**SATURDAY, 4:40 PM**

**HOGWARTS MARRIED QUARTERS**

Dudley stood straight as he could with a grin on his face while his father worked on helping him with his tie.

"Surprised they don't have a spell to do this, too," murmured Vernon, as he tried for the fifth time to get the tie on straight. Both males were in dress robes, though so far only Dudley seemed to be enjoying the experience.

"Even if there is a spell to do neckties, I don't know what it is." He grimaced at a thought. "I also wouldn't want to try that out for the first time on myself. If I got it wrong…" The teenager grimaced.

Petunia walked out of the bathroom having just finished with her makeup. "Oh, here, let me!"

"Fine," her husband stepped to the side so that she could have her chance to make the necktie look presentable. He hadn't expected her to use her wand to do it.

"_Corrigas necktie_."

Dudley had been caught by surprise at the spell, but seeing the result of how he looked in the mirror to see how he looked in his formal robes, he laughed. "It's perfect!" Then began whispering to himself the words to the spell.

Vernon, however, was not taking it as well. "Pet, you said you wouldn't do any mumbo jumbo today."

"Oh, but I especially learned that spell to help Dudley tonight." She gave him a peck on his cheek. "You know you are no good at putting ties on anyone but yourself. And I've never been good at it. I thought it would be nice to be able to do that for Dudley."

Vernon frowned. "Fine, but could you and Dudley just do one thing for me tonight? Could you both leave your wands here today?"

Petunia hesitated. She had to stop herself from placing her other hand protectively over her wand. She had to admit that Vernon had been trying very hard to accept this massive change in their lives. He'd spent Christmas break with them. Thankfully he had listened to her suggestion about only buying a few presents, and that none be electronic, as those wouldn't work due to the high magical concentration at Hogwarts. Or sweets, since Dudley was on a diet.

One of the gifts he had bought his son was a football (British style), which had been a huge hit among several of the students over the past week. Flitwick and Sprout had asked Petunia permission to use one of the empty rooms on the third floor, expanded with charms so that students could play proper football indoors since the snowy winter wouldn't allow it outside. Cushioning charms were amply applied to the wooden floor so the people wouldn't have to hold back as much when they played. Madam Hooch found herself as a self-appointed to the game once she learned the rules, as she was an instant fan of the sport. Teams of only pure-blood players were not allowed; also teams of just muggleborns were not allowed (since they were so much better at the sport). The games after classes had become so popular that some of the other empty classrooms on that same floor were likewise converted to use, and more footballs were bought by Harry to encourage the activities. A room was also converted so that basketball could be played. Dean, Luna and some other students were allowed to take another room to be used for art. Dudley had asked for a movie room, but had been told that Professor Flitwick would have to first find a way to make the projector and speakers work before cinema could be added to the students down time. One of Fleur's friends had suggested organizing a drama team to put together a play, which Lavender had got Dudley to agree to try out for parts with her.

Ron had been upset that he had lost Seamus and Dean to soccer, and now had only Harry to play chess with. Harry fixed that by using one of the last empty third floor rooms to turn into a game room: chess, checkers, darts, Clue, Trouble, Candyland, Monopoly, Jenga, Battleship and many more games lined the shelves, including several jigsaw puzzles and a few Rubik's Cubes. Luna ruled at the game of Twister. Fred and George went on to become devious dungeonmasters for a large group of Dungeons &amp; Dragons players. Colin Creevey and his brother Dennis introduced many of the pure-bloods to the world of Legos. Hermione had even claimed one corner of the room to make a small library of muggle fiction that she hoped, that if popular enough, would become part of the main Hogwarts library. Dudley had the idea to take one of the rooms and turn it into a gymnasium outfitted with a boxing ring and all the equipment needed for training. Several of the muggleborns were allowed to set up part of the gym for wrestling, fencing, and various types of martial arts, all of which began to draw in curious half-bloods and pure-bloods.

The only stipulation for using the rooms was that only students caught up in their homework and keeping their grades up could use those areas. Surprisingly, quite a few students who had been behind in things sudden rushed to get their papers done.

Petunia had asked why something like this hadn't been done before, as it seemed to be remarkable efficient. Professor Sprout simply said that they had tried to put a few things like it into effect, but Dumbledore hadn't seen it necessary. Indeed, the large-nosed headmaster could be seen passing by that floor with a look of sadness and shaking of his head. Petunia thought there must be something wrong with the headmaster if the professors were having to go to her and Harry in order to get something like this going for the students. And to think that it had all began with Vernon giving Dudley a football.

She considered her husband's request as quick as she could. A part of her just felt wrong to leave her wand while going to the ball. But on the other hand, he had actually been trying to acclimate to the changes in her and Dudley's lives. Begrudgingly perhaps, but he was trying. She had been having panic attacks at moments while going to bed during her first month at the castle caused by thoughts of Vernon rejecting them. But now, with him showing signs of accepting them, she was beginning to see some hope.

Unfortunately, he still didn't like Harry. Harry, for his part, felt the same, but tried to hide the fact somewhat for her and Dudley's sake.

She forced herself to put a smile on her face. "Very well, dear. We will leave them here," she said, even as she placed her wand on a wooden hutch ornately decorated with Celtic carvings.

Dudley was about to say something in protest, but his mother held up a hand to stop him from saying anything.

"Dudley, please, let us both do that for your father."

Their son frowned, but took the moment to think about it, and realized that it was just a simple thing that his father was asking them to do. And it wasn't as if he was really going to need it for anything. Besides, his father was already putting up with a lot just staying at the castle with them. "Fine," he grumbled, putting his wand on the hutch next to his mother's wand.

Winky popped into the room startling Vernon. "Here is Master Dudley's flowery gift," she said, holding it out carefully. The wrist corsage made with a two Fire &amp; Ice roses accented with Baby's Breath and a few green leaves.

"That's… an interesting choice of flower," Petunia concluded. "Is there any particular reason for that particular flower?"

"Lavender said it would go good with her dress," Dudley said with a shrug, even as he turned the corsage over in his examination of it.

"So she picked it out," Petunia concluded. She wasn't that surprised that Dudley hadn't learned about color meanings of flowers, though to be fair she wasn't sure where the Fire &amp; Ice rose fell in that category as it had white, pink, red, as well as a bit of yellow in its makeup.

Vernon was regarding Winky carefully. "Winky," he finally said.

"Yes, Master Dursley," Winky said, her voice showing traces of shyness and fear. She remembered quite well that Vernon had tried to kick her on their first meeting.

"This is a horribly big castle, correct?"

Winky nodded, and her eyes shifted to Petunia more than once.

"And it has a dungeon or whatever passes for a basement in one of these things-"

"Vernon?" Petunia looked at him questioningly.

Vernon held up a hand, asking her to wait.

"I would like you to go down there tonight, and find the worst forgotten rooms that are absolutely filthy beyond belief… and clean them."

Winky's eyes widened before she slowly broke out into a joyous smile. "Yes, Master Dursley. Winky will go down and clean there right away."

Vernon held up a hand to stall the house-elf for a moment. "Petunia, did you need Winky for anything else tonight?"

Petunia had heard about how house-elves loved to clean, but until having seen Winky's reaction to what Vernon had asked, she had no idea just how zealous they were about it. "N-no, I think we can handle the rest of it ourselves."

Winky left, causing a louder than normal cracking sound as she disappeared in her eagerness to find the worst rooms to clean.

Petunia regarded her husband. "How did you know that she would like that?"

"I've been learning a few things about house-elves and the Wizarding world," he said in explanation. "I figured that a big cleaning job was the perfect way to thank her for all that she has been doing for you and Dudley."

His wife looked hard at him. This was so unlike him, but at the same time this is more of what she wanted him to be like. Thoughtful. Kinder. Could he actually be changing for her?

"Oh, look at the time!" Dudley suddenly said. "I have to get going to meet Lavender."

"Need any father-son advice?" Vernon asked.

"I'm good," Dudley responded, trying to not look embarrassed.

"Just behave," Petunia instructed him.

She did a quick look in the mirror again, rechecking everything. "I suppose I'm ready to go, too."

Vernon went to the door of their quarters and opened it for them to walk out.

Petunia happened to glance by the fireplace, and noted the large steamer trunk there. "I forgot to have Winky put your things away."

"It'll keep," Vernon assured her. "Let her have her version of fun tonight, and we will go out and have ours."

She chuckled. Vernon had not been this thoughtful of others since they had been dating so many years ago. "You are full of surprises tonight, Mr. Dursley."

"You have no idea, my dear," he said charmingly, as he held the door open for her and their son. He stood there paused in the doorway. "Just a moment," he told them. Stepping back into the quarters, Vernon went over to the steamer trunk he had brought with him to Hogwarts and unlocked it, and lifted it open slightly. Then, he turned quickly away and headed out to join his family in the hall.

After the door to the rooms had closed, the lid to the trunk began to lift up…

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**DECEMBER 31, 1994**

**SATURDAY, 5:07 PM**

**GRYFF****INDOR TOWER, FOURTH YEAR BOYS BATHROOM**

Neville checked himself out in the mirror.

"Practically perfect," said the image of himself in the mirror. "You've never looked better."

"Thanks," Neville said. He still checked closer to make sure he had shaved the few hairs that had been starting to sprout over his lip and on his chin. The razor he used had once belonged to his father and was charmed to not nick the skin for which he was truly grateful. His gran had been hesitant in letting him have it, but eventually relented.

He checked in his bathroom amenities bag for a breath freshening potion so that he wouldn't offend anyone at the ball.

"Good choice," said the magical image in the mirror.

Neville nodded as he put all his stuff back in the amenities bag.

Walking back into his dorm room, he was somewhat surprised to see Ron and Seamus just sitting around playing chess.

"Guys, you better get a move on if you are going to be ready for the ball."

Seamus looked happy to have an excuse to give up the game since he was losing worse than usual. Ron, however, seemed ready to pout.

Longbottom dug his socks out of a drawer, then sat across from Ron to put them on. "Hey, Ron, what's up? Aren't you going to get ready?"

"I don't know if I'm going to go," the redhead grumbled.

Neville thought about responses he could make as he put on one of his socks. His dorm mate could be very temperamental when already upset about something, and Neville didn't want to set him off accidentally. "What about your date – Katie Bell? Did she call off going with you?"

"No." If anything, Ron seemed sulkier after the question. "It's because of her I'll probably still have to go."

Neville could understand that part. Katie Bell was good friends with Ron's brothers, Fred and George, and they would feel more than obligated to teach Ron a lesson if Ron ruined the Yule Ball for Katie. There was also the fact that Katie Bell was close with everyone on the House quidditch team, so ruining her big night at the Yule Ball would totally derail his chances of getting on the House team next year.

Neville didn't want to really get sucked into whatever drama that Ron was percolating within, but in his nature Neville was a genuine nice guy, and couldn't help himself. "What's up?"

Ron snorted, but got up and went over to his drawers and pulled something out, and held it out like it was infectious. "This is what."

It was difficult to distinguish what it was from the way Ron held it, but it was made of old frayed material that looked raggedy and had an overabundance of lace. "What is it?"

"My mum's idea of dress robes; that's what it is!" Ron ranted. "It's like she is purposely trying to make my life miserable. How can I go and be seen in this? Fred and George even got better duds that this thing."

Neville was finding it hard to take his eyes away from the wreckage of a robe. "That thing looks like it went out of style when my gran's gran was a baby." He reached out to touch one of the lacy sleeves, not entirely surprised when part of it disintegrated between his fingers. Noting the more feminine look had in comparison to what he was wearing, he had to ask, "Are you sure this wasn't supposed to go to Ginny?"

"That's what I said!" shouted Ron, collapsing on his bed, leaving the robe fall to the floor. "I'm doomed!"

The door to the dorm opened as Dean walked in dressed for the ball. "What's the racket?"

"Ron's doomed," Neville explained.

Dean flinched slightly. He'd been walking on eggshells around Ron ever since Dean had asked Ginny to the Yule Ball. "Ah."

"What have you been up to?" Neville asked, happy for a chance to change the subject.

"Down seeing McGonagall," Dean answered. "Had a rip in the shoulder when I put it on. Guess I grew a bit since my mum picked it out this summer. Had to wait in line, as several others had some things they needed patched and tweaked. Colin had spilled butterbeer down the front of his robes, then headed up to his room only to do it again and have to come down and get cleaned up again."

Neville nodded, and went over to pick up Ron's robes from the floor. "Er, Ron?"

"What?" came Ron's muffled response through the pillow he was trying to suffocate himself with.

"I just thought you might want to take your robe down for McGonagall to fix up."

Ron threw the pillow aside, giving up on suicide for the moment. "What good will that do? Even if she were to make it look like new, it will still be almost as horrid as it is now."

The Longbottom heir let out a heavy sigh as he began to explain a very simple fact to the curmudgeon teen. "McGonagall is a Transfiguration professor. She could probably make that relic of a bygone age look better than my robes if she put her want to it."

Ron instantly sat up. "What?" he exclaimed, wide-eyed with surprise.

Neville held out the robe for him to take. "Better hurry down and see her before she has to leave the tower to attend other duties."

Ron didn't have to be told again. He took off like a shot for the door and down the stairs, nearly running down some poor soul on the way.

Neville and Dean stood there and exchanged a look.

"Wait for it," Dean snickered.

Suddenly, there was a great deal of stomping on the stairs, followed by someone yelling just as Ron came back in short of breath.

"Forget something?" Neville inquired, holding up the antiquated dress robe in a taunting manner.

Ron grumbled as he snatched the robe away and headed back down the stairs, all the while trying to ignore the laughter of his dorm mates.

"Well, at least he'll be in a better mood," Dean commented.

"Hey, you saved his night," Neville pointed out. "If you hadn't mentioned McGonagall, I'd have left him to his pillow suffocating. He might have even succeeded for once."

"That would have put an end of his horrible snoring," Dean joked.

"True, but it would have still put a damper on the evening festivities."

The young men separated to finish their last minute tasks, Neville gravitating toward his desk. Under a glass dome with a stasis charm was the corsage and boutonniere for tonight. Luna Lovegood, his date, had suggested a flower that he had never heard of before: the Vario Affectus.

Neville had sent out inquiries to various exotic florists, and had been pleasantly surprised that they knew exactly which flower he was requesting. It was definitely rare and pricey to obtain, but he had done so. The flower was truly magical, and would change color and appearance depending on upon the mood of the person wearing the plant. Currently, the Vario Affectus looked like wilting weeds that had been fashioned into a mockery of a corsage and boutonniere. But as Neville placed the boutonniere into the buttonhole of his dress robe, it began to reshape itself, life lifting its faded pedals, infusing it with yellow and white, with bits of pink. The pedals themselves were growing longer as they opened. Picking up the corsage, it, too, began to fill out in a similar manner to that of the boutonniere. According to the directions he had been given, the corsage would change again once he presented the flowers to Luna. Then, both people will be able to successfully gauge how the evening is going depending on how the flowers change.

He would have been terrified of wearing such a revealing flower before, but he wanted Luna to see him for he was, and that he was being totally honest with her. Or maybe it was so that he could see that Luna was being entirely open with him. She had chosen the flowers after all. And it wasn't exactly secret that she had an unusual insight concerning others already, so had no need to use a persona revealing flower to know him better. Maybe she was simply trying to show him where her heart truly was.

Then again maybe he was reading too much into it.

He suddenly wished he had someone that he could ask such things about. "Maybe by next Christmas," he murmured under his breath.

The Sorting Hat was still working on repairing Neville's mother's mind. The Hat had even allowed his mother, Alice Longbottom, to awake long enough for Neville to wish her a Happy Christmas. It had taken Neville and his grandmother by surprise when she had said Neville's name. It hadn't been much since her throat had not been used for speaking for a decade and a half, but it meant the world to Neville. His mother had not spoken anything else after that, but her eyes were tracking the people in the room in a more aware pattern.

The Sorting Hat had allowed him to have ten minutes with her before it had her return to a deep sleep again. Augusta Longbottom had interrogated the Sorting Hat quite thoroughly about it's progress. The animated headwear had agreed that the memories that had been brought to him – memories that Alice had given as evidence during her time as an auror – had been very useful in understanding how she thought and was helping him to piece her personality. Memories that others had provided of their time with Alice were also useful, but not as good as her own personal memories. Neville's grandmother had also gone through Frank and Alice's things and had found a small collection of personal memories that they had collected, as well as several photographs that showed Alice's childhood

Neville had been hurt and annoyed when he realized that his grandmother's main motivation was that she wanted the Sorting Hat to hurry so that it could begin work on her son, and that she wasn't as concerned with her daughter-in-law. Once Neville had dragged his grandmother away from his parents, they had had a huge fight. Their first true fight, he realized. His grandmother had been both outraged and somewhat proud at Neville taking such a strong stance, as well as defending it so well. And to add to his surprise, she had apologized.

"Well, this New Year looks to be much better than last year," he said, slipping into his shoes.

After checking himself over once more, he left the dorm to go find Luna.

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**AUTHOR's****NoTeS****: **

_Yes, I have done something with the Umbridge character. I think most cats would avoid a character like Umbridge, especially the Kneazles. So I have given her a twist in her fascination with cats, which will lead to exposing the true Umbridge to the Wizarding World. (Personally, I am a cat and dog person. I just can't have any where I live.)__ I have turned Umbridge into an even more revolting individual, the reasons for which will be revealed later._

_As for Ron's robes, I just could never figure out why McGonagall didn't transfigure his robes in the book. Maybe the material was too old to transfigure properly. Oh well._

_And the Squib Invasion has begun! I sure many can guess that this has to do with Vernon's steamer trunk._

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	24. Chapter 24

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 24**

By Ordinaryguy2

**DECEMBER 31, 1994**

**SATURDAY, 5:41 PM**

**THE GREAT HALL**

It was a proud moment for Headmaster Albus Dumbledore as he took in the decorations of the Great Hall. The house-elves had gone all out in decorating from the Yule Ball. He had even been surprised that Professor Sinistra had somehow enchanted the ceiling to show the clear night sky, but had added a telescoping feature so that the students could watch the planet Saturn as if it were closer than the moon.

"It's so much better than looking into a telescope, wouldn't you agree?" came a voice behind him.

Dumbledore had to suppress a groan. He'd tried to keep his contact with Sirius Black to a minimum since Harry and his aunt had agreed to provide sanctuary at Hogwarts to the escapee from Azkaban. The headmaster still felt the heavy weight of guilt for having allowed the innocent man to wallow in that dank, horrid prison. True, the headmaster had allowed events to play out that way so that he could make himself Harry's magical guardian, as thus to manipulate how Harry grew up. He'd only allowed himself to do such things because he believed Harry to be doomed because he'd been inadvertently been turned into a horcrux. How was the headmaster to know that Harry's aunt would have a rare magical gift that would allow her to remove the horcrux? As it stood, Harry would still die in battle against Voldemort, as spoken in the prophecy. But it had been the headmaster's manipulations that had ruined Sirius Black's life, as well as most of Harry's life. It had been Dumbledore's actions that influenced so many actions. He had been the one to bind the magical cores of the two Dursleys, and later had used the control rods to not only weaken Harry's magical core, but to manipulate the character of Petunia and her son to be adverse to Harry as well as magic magic. He hadn't needed to influence Vernon's character since he despised Harry at first sight. Albus hadn't felt the need to use control rods to make Vernon adverse to magic, though if he had, then the head of the Dursley family wouldn't have been willing to come to Hogwarts to see Harry face off with a dragon, and dragged his family along to see it. The headmaster couldn't help wondering if he had made the wrong choice? Would the difference in events been worse or better? Had he tarnished his soul for nothing? It truly was getting more and more difficult to accept that everything he had done was for the Greater Good.

"Headmaster?"

"Er, yes? Excuse me, I was lost in thought."

Sirius Black was dressed in the whitest of dress robes that Dumbledore had ever seen. Albus supposed it was meant as an analogy to the man's innocence. He was groomed and grinning from ear to ear.

"I was commenting on Professor Sinistra's plan to use the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall for her Astronomy class. She get views here that are much better than any telescope the students use."

Albus paused upon hearing this. "I'm afraid this is the first I've heard of it. In fact, she still hasn't told me how she was able to access the particular ward stone that controls the enchanted ceiling."

"Oh that would be me," Sirius chuckled. "I was chatting with her in the Teachers' Lounge the other day, and I remembered one of the nights when I was living on the run in the country. The night sky was particularly bright that night, and it made me think of one of the windy nights in the Astronomy Tower. Lily had lost her footing during one gust and would have fallen of the tower if James hadn't caught her hand in time. She had been rather shook up about it, and I remember her muttering about wondering why we couldn't study the night sky on the enchanted ceiling. It had stuck in my mind that I wanted to pass along the idea to whoever was currently teaching Astronomy to consider using the enchanted ceiling. That and the fact I knew how to get into the ward stone area for the enchanted ceiling. The Marauders found it our Sixth year."

"Hmm, yes," Albus went on trying to sound thoughtful. "Unfortunately, enchanted ceilings are rare, and telescope not so much. Students need to be able to read the night skies from their own homes, and in order to do so they need to be able to find it on their own." He nodded his head sagely, as if agreeing with himself.

"Aurora made that same argument. But I pointed out to her that on the overcast nights, students could come here to get a clear view of the stars, as well as a closer view of the heavenly bodies, like the view we have of Saturn tonight. Plus, it's a hell of a lot warmer."

"True," agreed the older man. "Still, tradition-"

"Traditions change over time, Albus. And I think that enduring wind-induced frostbite, writing in near pitch black conditions, and constantly accidently giving yourself a black eye with your own telescope is something we can do without. Not to mention having to lug your telescope and book bags up and down from the tower late at night. I can remember hearing of at least four students who tripped and broke some bones while going up and down that obstacle course, including my cousin's daughter, Nymphadora Tonks."

"Hem, hem."

Both men turned to see who was interrupting them only to jerk away from the onslaught of bright pink.

Delores Umbridge wore what would have been a mild formal gown, except for its stark pink color and the sparkling glitter and lace. Next to her stood Percy Weasley in formal black robes, who looked as if he may have taken one of the twins prank candies so that he would have an excuse to get away.

"Delores?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "I was not aware you were coming. Is there a ministry problem that I am unaware of?"

Delores beamed one of her sickly sweet smiles that made Sirius want to recoil. "Once I became aware of Mr. Crouch's illness, I talked young Mr. Weatherby into accepting me as his date for the evening. After all, he is new to the ministry and could benefit from a guiding hand."

Percy stood straight as a board trying to not show his own opinion on the matter, to which both Dumbledore and Black could see that he had not yet entirely mastered that particular skill, or even come close to it considering his red face and pinched face.

"Mr. Black." Umbridge let out a light sigh, and gave a brief shake of her head. "While I had heard that you had been given sanctuary at Hogwarts, I at least thought that Dumbledore would have you sequestered somewhere away from the students."

Sirius grinned maddingly as he rocked back onto the heels of his shoes. "Nope. I've been given free reign. It's been rather nice, too. Therapeutic, I guess you could say, after being cooped up for so long."

"You do seem to be doing quite well," she remarked. "You even appear rather dashing in that suit."

"Oh, this?" He did a small twirl. "It was something that I had put together in a rush for tonight. Turned out even better than I thought it would."

Umbridge gave a slight nod, almost as if approving. "It is missing something though." Reaching to her wrist corsage, she removed a small red rose. "Something for your lapel," she said, reaching to hand it to him.

Before he could accept the small gift, a house-elf appeared between them with a loud crack, startling everyone nearby.

"Youse not be stealing Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir's dogfather!" exploded Dobby with an unusually harsh glare. With a flick of his hand, the boutonniere turned to ash in Umbridge's outstretched hand. "No more porty-key trickiness or Dobby be removing _**youse**_ from Hogwarts!"

Delores glared, her cheeks slightly pink, and a tick starting to begin under her left eye. Potter's house-elf had dared to undo her surprise opportunity to portkey the wanted felon into captivity. Fudge would have been praising her with accolades for months if she had only managed to bring in the fugitive who had been on the run from aurors, hit wizards, bounty hunters and even dementors for going on two years now. And a damn, verminous house-elf foils her? She was just barely able to hide the fact the she was gritting her teeth behind her broad smile as she looked up at Black and Dumbledore. "Can't fault someone for wanting justice done."

"Justice!" snapped Sirius. "If Fudge and the ministry got a hold of me before there could be a genuine trial, they'd force feed me to the Dementors!"

"You should have more faith in the ministry that that!" Percy barked in.

Sirius rounded on his antagonist. "The same ministry that kept me illegally incarcerated for twelve years, purposefully ignoring the fact that I should have had a trial before being found guilty?" He then spat at Weasley's feet. "Perhaps you would share my opinion if your precious ministry were to unceremoniously shove _**you**_ into an Azkaban cell for a decade where you could look forward to be waited on daily by the bloody Dementors!"

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was working on a different conversation. "Undersecretary Umbridge, I'm surprised by your actions. Surely you have investigated the pensieves that Harry made available to the public. It clearly shows Black's innocence."

"Inconclusive," she said, with a casual wave of her hand. "Besides, it could have been easily faked. Use magic to set the scene, have some paid actors use polyjuice and act out the part, and there you have your alibi in memory form."

Dumbledore wasn't entirely accepting that she believed that was the case. "He said he was willing to take veritaserum. Surely that should allow him the opportunity to be fairly judged by his peers."

Black, having heard what Dumbledore said, now listened to their discussion. "I'd take it again now if would speed up my freedom."

Delores clucked sadly, as if she were pitying the two men. "I'm afraid not. Black could very well have stored his guilty memories somewhere safe, then obliviated his knowledge of them so that he would pass any veritaserum test. Later, he could restore his memories and have successfully circumvented justice."

"That a convoluted lie!" Sirius loudly proclaimed. "Hell, I doubt that is even possible, or Malfoy and his fellow Death Eaters would have been willing to use veritaserum to prove they were too weak-willed to break away from the Imperius Curse they claimed to be under. The only '_test_' they were put to, was to see how many galleons they could shovel into the vaults of those that were supposed to be trying their cases!"

"How dare you impugn the character of someone as notable as Lord Malfoy?" Umbridge said in her most outraged tone.

"Oh, it's easy to do," Sirius snarked. "I've met the man! Even Mundungus Fletcher is nobler than what your '_Lord_' Malfoy truly is! And Fletcher is one of the laziest street rats I've ever come across!"

Umbridge fumed, glaring daggers at the last of the Black line. Sirius stared right back at her, wishing she would do something that would give him a reason to unleash some of the more disgusting spells at the toad-ish, female, ministry lackey.

Surprisingly, it was Percy, after clearing his throat, who had restored some order and reason when he suggested that they forgo any further arguing as more students were arriving in the Great Hall only to stop and stare at them. He then led Delores over to where the ghostly Friar was leading couples to their seats. Delores, for her part, walked in a dignified air with her nose held up high.

"That could have gone better," Dumbledore admitted. Sirius, on the other hand, was provided a cup of firewhiskey by Dobby, to help settle the man's nerves. "Thanks for the quick save."

Dobby seemed to become embarrassed, and had took to wringing his ears. "Dobby is only following Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir's orders, sir."

"Well, I am grateful anyway, Dobby."

The self-conscious house-elf seemed to blush somewhat before giving small nod towards Sirius and disappearing with a quick crackling sound.

"You seemed to have made a friend as well as gained a protector," Dumbledore pointed out with some amusement.

Sirius chuckled, momentarily wondering what his mother would think of him having a house-elf for a friend. "Headmaster, I'm finding I need all the friends I can get."

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**DECEMBER 31, 1994**

**SATURDAY, 5:51 PM**

Deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts, Cuthbert Binns stood at his post, having been asked to take over Myrtle's guard duty for the night. Myrtle had thanking him repeatedly as she was now able to attend the Yule Ball. He found it rather nice to be appreciated for something, even more so since his old job as a History professor at Hogwarts had been a thankless one to the point that no one seemed interested in what he was trying to teach them.

He had never been the liveliest of people before he had died. Even then his students tended to use his class time for sleeping rather than learning. Cuthbert Binns just did not have it in him to be able to make his subject interesting, even though he truly wanted to. That, he believed is why he stayed on as a ghost at Hogwarts. He had wanted to be appreciated by the students. So, even though he lacked a body, he continued to teach. There had been some concern at first, but, in the end, the fact that they had someone who knew the material, and even more important, he didn't need to be paid, had won over any protests.

At first, Cuthbert had hoped that the fact that he had become a ghost would entice the students more in his classes, but if anything, the students became more listless. Cuthbert also discovered that he was stuck as a ghost, unable to move on to the final beyond until a student truly appreciated him.

And then, it became worse. One headmaster after another had used their magic to skew his teaching. One had made it so that he had to totally ignore any historical contributions over the years. Another wanted him to focus more on the difficulties the Wizarding world had with the Goblins, painting the Goblins as the aggressors in all the uprisings. Even worse, he couldn't learn much about current events, so he had to just skip over it. Taking into account that he had been in the position for almost two centuries, that was a large amount of history that got dropped. Over all, it made Cuthbert feel as his very life was being sucked away. If that was even possible.

It was ironic that his finally gaining some appreciation after so many decades of teaching, that he might actually be up to going on to the next journey, and it was all due to the thanks from another ghost. Specifically, young, emotional Myrtle, who had died at Hogwarts while still a student.

He patiently floated up and down the hall, hopeful that he might be fulfilling his last duty at Hogwarts. Even with his high hopes, he still dreaded the abomination that the ghosts of the castle had taken upon themselves to guard. Just knowing that it was being kept in an especially warded room was not much comfort.

He had never seen the spell that had stunned him.

Marcus Flint moved in a manner that he thought was stealthy. Edging around the ghost that was slowly tumbling through the air, he moved to the doorway. He tried five various spells, all failing to give him entrance. Giving off a small growl, he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small scroll.

"Lucky he had this ready for me," Flint muttered, scanning over the scroll. It wasn't until the fourth scroll that the door glowed a dark purple before opening.

It wasn't that he wanted to be down here just as the Yule Ball was starting. No, he dared not go to the ball due to the Beauxbatons students, all of whom now had it out for him after the love potion incident. Unfortunately, not so many people saw things his way, and even few trusted him, which had resulted in him not having a date for the Yule Ball. When the aurors had responded to the incident, they had not sided with him, but they did inform him that they had family at the school, and if they heard that he or anyone else had done that to any of their daughters, they would have done things to the perpetrators that would make what the Beauxbatons students had done to him seem tame by comparison.

Marcus had spent almost a week in the hospital wing, and had been informed by his Head of House, his uncle, that Marcus would have to pay reparations to the girls he had tried to dose. One hundred galleons to each girl; two hundred galleons all together. He'd been griping about his financial woes in the Slytherin Common Room when Draco pulled him aside and offered him two hundred galleons for a small job. Flint had automatically double the price to four hundred galleons, to which Draco responded by going down to one fifty. Grinding his teeth, Flint agreed to the two hundred.

The job he had for him was to discover what the ghosts were guarding. Draco had narrowed it to which room in particular the ghosts were guarding, but he wanted an airtight alibi so the crime needed to be committed while Malfoy was attending the Yule Ball. Draco had also managed to come up with the spell needed to stun ghosts, as well as a variety of spells that should open the door for Marcus.

"Lumos!"

The room had no windows as it was in the dungeons, and was roughly half the size of one of the regular classrooms. Near the center was a circle made of salt on the stone floor with several runes written around the outside. But it was the shadowy dark cloud with red glowing slit eyes that took the Slytherin student's breathe away.

"What in the seven hells is that?!"

-_I am a who, not a what_.-

Marcus backed up, caught completely in surprise by this thing speaking directly into his head. "What- I mean, who are you?"

-_I am Power. I am Fame. I am Glory. I am Riches beyond your wildest dreams_.-

Marcus stared in wonder, his mouth beginning to water. "So… you're saying you're… a djinn?"

The cloud-thing chuckled in a manner that sent chills up and down Flint's spine. -_As good as_,- the thing said. -_And if you wish for me to help make your dreams come true, you should close the door and come closer. You and I should get to know each other_.-

Flint stood there for a moment. Then, thinking he had nothing to lose, he turned and closed the door.

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**HOGWARTS INFIRMARY**

**DECEMBER 31, 1994**

**SATURDAY, 5:56 PM**

"What the blazes are you doing in here?"

To say that the Sorting Hat had been caught by surprise to the point that it had almost leapt off of Alice Longbottom's head would not have been wrong. Especially since the voice in question was one he had not heard in over a thousand years.

The Hat managed to swivel around and searched with it's beady eyes until spying the one he sought in a painting of a summer glade hanging over a bed not that far away.

"Merlin's beard!" exclaimed the Hat. "Salazar? Is that really you? Where have you been all this time?"

"Of course it's me! My portrait has only just recently been brought up from my Chamber of Secrets." The bald, bearded man regarded the Hat. "Have they turned you into some kind of physician's aid? You were meant to be sorting children! Why are you on that woman's head?"

The Hat sorted disdainfully. "I have many talents as you well know. You endowed a few of them on me yourself." He then went on to tell Salazar how he was being utilized to restore the minds of the two Longbottoms.

"Hmm, I think I know a sew potions that could calm their minds so that your work could would progress easier."

"I won't allow it!" snapped the Sorting Hat. "You barely know what her problem is, and you are already wanting to shove potions down her throat!"

Salazar Slytherin stood tall and angry. "How dare you question my skill and knowledge!"

"You are a thousand years behind the time! There have been hundreds of potions masters over the centuries, many of them working to improve on your formulas!"

Salazar scowled menacingly. "There may have been improvements on my written works, but I never shared my greatest creations."

The Hat scowled. "It figures that you would hoard your best work and bury it somewhere where it couldn't benefit anyone."

Salazar gave a slight look of amusement. "I always told Godric that he had put too much stubbornness into your character when he made you."

The Hat sniffed in amusement. "Don't blame him; blame yourself. He modelled that part of my personality on you."

A highly offended look crossed Salazar's face. "He evidently didn't do a very good job then."

"What do you mean?" teased the Hat. "Don't you like what you see in the metaphoric mirror?"

"Enough!" Salazar began pacing back and forth in the mirror. "I need information. And you will provide it."

The frowning, animated, magical hat stared up at him. "You do know that you are just a copy of the real Salazar Slytherin, right? You are not the '_real thing_', as they say now a days."

"Of course I know that! And even so, I must and will attend to what I find in this foreign future just as the true Salazar would himself. Now, enough arguing, there is much to discuss and little enough time to do so."

The Hat nodded the best it could in agreement. He couldn't really go against the Slytherin portrait as it had more authority then he did. But that didn't mean he had to fully comply if he didn't like where Salazar's plans were going.

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**DECEMBER 31, 1994**

**SATURDAY, 6:07 PM**

**THE GREAT HALL**

Dudley was having one of the happiest moments of his life as he sat at one of the many circular tables that had been brought in to replace the long House tables. Sitting next to him was his girlfriend, Lavender Brown, who was of course his date for the Yule Ball. Just beneath the table they held hands, which made them grin happily to each other. Already sitting at the table had been Neville Longbottom and his date, Luna Lovegood. There had been light conversation between the four young people as they watched other couples arrive into the Great Hall. Parvati and Padma Patil had joined them along with their two Durmstrang dates. Cultural concerns about how they would interact where soon dismissed when Padma's date, Vlad, began sharing stories to Neville and Luna of a newly discovered creature that his family was studying that was part tree and part deer. Parvati's date, Franc, was sharing with the others the gossip about several of his friends as they arrived at the ball. Soon their table was joined by Ginny Weasley and her date, Dean Thomas, followed shortly by Seamus Finnegan and his date, Romilda Vane. They were almost joined by Ginny's brother, Ron, except that Ron's date, Katie Bell, insisted that they were going to sit with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch members at another table. Ron had made a weak argument to stay, but Ginny said he'd better just go, which he grumpily did, earning him a frown from Katie.

The gossips of the table watched with rapt attention as Theodore Nott walked into the Hall with Pansy Parkinson on his arm. While the gossip mongers had heard about the rumor a week prior, it was even more appreciated when the tale was validated. Pansy wore a very pink outfit that Seamus said looked like belonged on a Barbie doll. (_He then had to explain to most of those at the table just what a Barbie doll was_.)

The biggest shocker had been a little while later when Draco Malfoy, with a deep look of resolve, came in with none other than Moaning Myrtle, the young ghost who haunted the Second floor girl's laboratory. Lavender and Parvati had earlier aided Myrtle dress up her '_Myrtle_' suit, and creatively apply makeup so that she looked as natural as possible. Myrtle had refrained from telling anyone who her date was going to be, only that it would be a surprise. Draco looked paler than normal, almost as if were starting to become a ghost himself. Things did start to get ugly once Pansy saw who her replacement as Draco's date was, and began to screech like a banshee at him until she was struck with a silencing spell from their Head of House. Snape strode over, his robes billowing like storm clouds behind him, and quickly addressed Pansy in hushed tones that seemed to quickly change her attitude back to one of indifference. They were soon joined by the Bloody Baron, and whatever it was that the ghost said had Pansy blanch. Meanwhile, Draco led Myrtle over to a far table where they sat alone at least for now.

The next upset happened as the four Champions were led in with their dates on their arms, though Fleur clearly had to guide her bedazzled date. Percy Weasley, sitting at the Officials Table spat out his fruit punch onto Delores Umbridge when he noticed his ex-girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, on the arm of none other than Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang Champion. Delores screeched out several colorful words, and a few stinging hexes onto Percy, before using her wand to clean herself and her area of the table. Sirius Black, on the other end of the table, almost fell off his chair due to laughing and had to be propped up by Professor Sinistra.

The Champions, for the most part, ignored the spectacle at the Officials Table, though Penelope couldn't hide the amusement that was clearly on her face. The Champions Table was next to the Officials Table so they could hear some of what was happening, including some of Professor McGonagall quietly chastising Umbridge for using such improper language at a school function. The bitter look on Umbridge's face could have sunk a thousand ships, but she did settle into her seat while alternately glaring daggers at Sirius, Minerva and Percy.

On the other side of the Officials Table was a table for the rest of the school staff, also including Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Petunia was beside herself with joy. Not only was she attending Hogwarts, but so was her child. And it also meant so much to her that Vernon was trying to be decent about tonight. She thought it sweet that he was making an effort to make this be a happy evening for her and Dudley.

"Isn't our little man so handsome, Vernon!" she said quietly as they watch Dudley and his date clink glasses before drinking.

"Hm, yes dear," he responded, as he checked his watch.

A glance at her husband told her that something was wrong. "Vernon, you seem distracted."

"It's nothing, Pet." He calmly reached out to take her hand. "Just some things on my mind."

"Problems at work?"

"No," he answered, then reached for his glass of wine. "No, it's just something to do with Marge."

Petunia frowned. While it had been devastating to learn that Vernon had never been under the influence of those horrid repressing rods, he had recently been making strides to be supportive of his now magical family, Petunia had no such inclinations concerning Marge. She had not liked Marge Dursley from the moment they met, and only tried to be friendly to her for Vernon's sake. The woman was rude and a bully of the worst sort. It actually made her feel better about herself once see reasoned that it was those damn repressing rods that had caused her to allow Vernon's sister to come into their home. She had even less tolerance for Marge when she learned that it was Marge who had come up with the idea to overmedicate her until after they saw that baby Dudley was okay after his fall down the stairs.

"What has she done now? Has she been turned in for animal cruelty again? Or did one of her animals attack someone?"

"What?" He set his glass back down. "No, no, she is being much more careful about such misunderstandings nowadays. No, this is… something else."

"Can we talk about it later?" Petunia softly beseeched. "I just want the two of us to enjoy tonight."

"I'll try, Pet. Hopefully, you will be proud of me."

Dumbledore walked up to the podium. "Good evening, everyone! I hope everyone is enjoying themselves so far as we begin. As many of you know, a Yule Ball has not been held since 1792, so many of the traditions from that time period have faded away leaving it to us to implement some new traditions. First and foremost, wizards and witches will be allowed to dance together. While many of you would not have thought separation of the males and females would have been implemented in this day and age, our forefathers were not as open-minded as we are today. But, as I said, the judges and I overturned that ruling."

Scattered awkward clapping came from students who hadn't even realized that they might not be permitted to dance with their dates at the ball.

"Now, also back in 1792, the students attending the Yule Ball were each allowed one glass of firewhisky for the evening."

Cheers roses from a majority of the attendees as Albus suddenly received an unexpected standing ovation.

Once he could be heard again, Albus cleared his throat. "Sorry if there was a misunderstanding, I was just trying to explain that the judges and, uh, well, the judges have decided to overturn that, too."

Groans filled the air followed by a few jeers.

"We do have butterbeer in abundance," Dumbledore added. "As well as several flavors of sparkling cider. Please try my favorite, which is pumpkin cider."

He paused for a moment as if expecting applause, but was instead rewarded with the sound of crickets, which were not even in season.

"Another matter is, during the dance segments, we have a setup over in the northeast corner where Hogwarts' own budding photographer, Mr. Colin Creevey, will be taking pictures for the couples if they choose to do so. Later in the evening, I am told that he would be willing to take group photos."

Dumbledore continued on for approximately ten minutes, mentioning other minor traditions, and suggestions of conduct for the Yule Ball.

Petunia whispered to her husband, "Dear lord, the man love's the sound of his own voice. He just doesn't know when to stop."

"Agreed," Vernon murmured. "Time to take measures into my own hands."

Then, before she could ask him what he meant, Vernon stood up with his glass in his hands.

"Headmaster, I assume you will allow people to make toasts?"

Professor Flitwick, sitting on the other side of Petunia looked toward her in askance.

She was surprised herself, as she had thought that Vernon would just stoically go through the evening. It wasn't until she noticed the glass in her husband's hand that she was hit with an epiphany. "Oh, this happened at one of the social functions Vernon attended," she whispered to the part-Goblin. "One of the speakers was incredibly long-winded. Vernon was able to interrupt by proposing a toast. Then the meeting was able to resume. Most of his colleagues considered him the hero of the night."

Flitwick chuckled at that, liking the ingenuity, and a bit surprised to see it in the oafish man.

Vernon approached the podium. "Headmaster, I know I and my family are the newest to the castle, but I would like, with your permission, to make a toast."

Dumbledore fumbled for a moment. Then decided that this lout of a muggle didn't know what an important personage that the headmaster was. Considering that it would look good in his support of muggleborns, Albus determined to just comply with the abrupt request. It also amused him that Delores Umbridge looked like she was sucking a lemon, which added a twinkle in his eye.

"Very well. Very well. Everyone, Mr. Vernon Dursley." With a kind smile, the headmaster backed away from the podium.

Vernon stood in front of the podium, his hands gripping the wooden sides of it tightly. "Good evening, everyone," his voice carrying throughout the hall very well, despite the fact he wasn't using any amplification spell to aid him. "As many of you know, I am Vernon Dursley. My wife and I are the Fourth Champion's relatives and guardians."

He waved over to where Harry sat with the other Champions. Harry, unsure of what his uncle was doing, took hold of Hermione's hand. "Something is wrong," Harry whispered to her. Hermione shot him a questioning look, but he shrugged as he had no answers to give her.

"Harry was presented to us…, well, actually he was left on our doorstep overnight on an early November evening by your headmaster, who I'm told is also the Chief Warlock of the, ah, '_Wizardmot_', I believe, and also has the title of Supreme '_Mudwimp_', no, ah, '_Mugglewump_' maybe?"

Peals of laughter began to fill the Great Hall at Vernon's mistakes. Not that he seemed to mind.

"Sorry, I really am not sure of some of those titles. But the point is is that he did leave custody of Harry to my wife and I. And while it hasn't been easy for us due to several factors that I won't disclose, we have accepted him. He is family. And I affirm that fact here in front of all of you."

An invisible tremor seemed to move through the air making the occupants suddenly go quiet as they tried to understand the disruption.

Beside him, Hermione let out a gasp even as she covered her mouth with one of her hands.

"Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure, but…," she turned to look at him. "I think your uncle has-"

At this point, Vernon raised his glass of cider into the air, as if to make a toast.

"I, Vernon Dursley, acknowledge myself as the head of the House of Dursley, and thereby also of Ravenclaw by marriage, and due to guardianship of Harry Potter, I acknowledge myself in the custodial position over Slytherin. Thereby, I appoint myself as the owner and guardian of the castle known as Hogwarts!"

Shock quickly gave way to angry outcries and people jumping to their feet, several pulling their wands out to curse the uppity, fat muggle.

Soft pops in the air was the first indication that there was anything wrong. Several of the staff and the headmaster felt something strike them, only to look where they had hit and see an orange gel that seemed to brighten as it began to glow.

"Attackers at the door!" Moody bellowed as he sent a strong blast of air in that direction. The wind nearly knocked over a few students, but at the doorway, invisible cloaks were being blown off of shooters armed with paintball guns, upsetting their firing.

Several other shooters, who had already slipped inside the room, continued firing, targeting the adults and older students first.

Hermione pulled Harry down in time to be missed by a volley of pellets that hit Fleur's date, Roger Davies, instead.

Roger sat down hard in his chair, and Hermione pulled him down to the floor while Harry created a _protego_ charm around them.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked as she checked him over for injuries.

"Wh-what happened?" Roger asked, shaking his head as he tried to think clearly. "Man, I feel drained. Did Fleur do this to me? My mother warned me that-"

"It's not Fleur's doing! We are under attack! They shot you with something." She pointed at his chest. "Does it hurt?"

Roger, finally noticing what was going on, looked down and saw the glowing glob on his chest. Almost immediately he had his tuxedo-like robes off, and seeing that some had seeped through, he took off his outer shirt, too. The remaining residue on his chest was wiped away with several napkins that Hermione handed to him. That done, Roger laid down flat on his back, and was almost instantly asleep.

Waving her wand over the Seventh Year Ravenclaw, Hermione cast a diagnosis spell.

"He's suffering from magical exhaustion! The gel in the paintballs absorb magic!" she explained to Harry.

"Already figured that out," Harry groaned.

The magical shield Harry had created and was holding in place was littered with the glowing gel substance, more and more being added every second. As she watched horrified, she could see streams of magic flowing into the gel splotches. She also noted that the some of the splotches that had been there longest seemed to dissipate after reaching its saturation level, the gel turning gray and crumbed as it went inert.

"Everyone, get down!" she shouted, then pulled Harry down, too. The shield faltered for a moment, before disappearing entirely, thus letting the gel splotches fall to the stone floor, where it continued to suck magic from the castle itself.

As the wizards and witches watched, the Bloody Baron flew toward the assailants, letting out a savage cry as he raised his ghostly sword. One of the nearest attackers raised a different weapon that sprayed a mist of the gel-like substance at the ghost who flew right into it. This time the gel-mist glowed light-green, and allowed the alarmed Bloody Baron an abrupt gurgle in surprise before he was just gone.

Madame Olympe Maxime and Hagrid had both been coated with the magic-draining substance, as they were both the easiest targets. They were also among the first to fall. At the officials table, Dumbledore slumped into his seat with a look of surprise and fear on his face. The others at that table had also succumb to the attack, except for Umbridge who had used Percy as a human shield while hurling borderline dark curses at the invaders.

Most of the staff had already fallen, except for Flitwick, Snape, Sinistra, and a horrified Petunia. Sinistra called for the house-elves to remove the students, and was surprised when they didn't respond.

"They are bound to your husband now!" Flitwick said between spells.

"Why is he doing this?" Petunia cried out hysterically from behind her chair that she was using as cover. "Why is this happening?"

"I'll go ask!" Sirius snarled, and he transformed into Padfoot. The dog animagus raced under the table, charging out after the damned beached whale of a man.

Vernon, meanwhile, had been watching things proceed from the cover provided by the podium, smiling serenely. He took note of the black dog charging at him from the staff table, and calmly drew out a handgun from a pocket in his robe, and shot the animal twice.

"Sirius!"

Harry sent out a shockwave with most of his remaining energies, knocking nearly everyone off their feet. The teen quickly got to his feet and ran unsteadily toward his still, bleeding godfather.

He was abruptly knocked over when several pellets struck him in his side.

Harry rolled over to look up at his assailant, and gapped in surprise.

Marge Dursley towered over him with a cruel look on her face. "I always wanted to do this to you, you sad, little, orphan bastard. Too bad it's not a real gun." She that raised her paintball gun and began shooting him at point-blank range until her gun was out of paintballs.

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_**AUTHOR's**____**NoTeS**__**: **___

_**Yep. Here I go in my endeavors to try add new, hopefully never-tried-before story ideas into Harry Potter fanfiction.**_

_**I liked the fact that Sirius has found sanctuary at Hogwarts. And how could Umbridge not try to capture him anyway, right? Percy, of course, was being a snit, but that would also help him rise in the ministry. Especially if Umbridge sees him as a good toady to use.**_

_**Now, in case anyone forgets, the Hogwarts ghosts secretly guarding an Abomination had been mentioned a few chapters back when Myrtle had accidently brought it up when she was talking with Draco. Draco naturally had to learn what it was all about so he hires Marcus to check it out for him. As for what the Abomination is… well, I'll let people guess.**_

_**As for the portrait of Salazar and the Sorting Hat… you are just going to have to wait and see.**_

_**The Yule Ball – well, it had a great start. Myrtle was happy despite Pansy's upset. Or maybe that would have thrilled Myrtle even more. She seems the type to like some drama now and then.**_

_**I also want to remind readers that Vernon, cad though he is, had actually been given a loyalty potion set so that he would obey his sister Marge. This is why he is conducting himself in this manner. If it wasn't for that, I don't think even Vernon would risk the lives of his wife and their only son.**_

_**Until next time!**_

_**Please remember to review! Reviews are the muses that keep me writing!**_


	25. Chapter 25

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 25**

By Ordinaryguy2

**DECEMBER 31, 1994**

**SATURDAY, 6:30 PM**

**THE GREAT HALL**

_Vernon, meanwhile, had been watching things proceed from the cover provided by the podium, smiling serenely. He noticed the black dog charging at him from the staff table, and calmly drew out a handgun from a pocket in his robe, and shot the animal twice._

"_Sirius!"_

_Harry sent out a shockwave with most of his remaining energies, knocking nearly everyone off their feet. The teen quickly got to his feet and ran unsteadily toward his still, bleeding godfather._

_He was abruptly knocked over when several pellets struck him in his side._

_Harry rolled over to look up at his assailant, and gapped in surprise._

_Marge Dursley stood over him with a cruel look on her face. "I always wanted to do this to you, you sad little orphan bastard. Too bad it's not a real gun." She that raised her paintball gun and began shooting him at point-blank range until her gun was out of paintballs._

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Hermione quickly waved her wand at the table she was sitting at and transformed it into a protective barricade around her, Viktor, Fleur, Penelope Clearwater and the knocked-out Roger Davies. Krum was already on the offense, sending explosive spells against some of the attackers charging them. His spells flew true, though some of the invaders were able to throw themselves out of the way. Those that were hit had part of their padded vest burst open due to the spell, revealing more of the magic-absorbing gel that blunted some of the effect of Krum's spells, while still knocking the people away.

Hermione, seeing Harry's predicament with his aunt, used her wand to cast a spell at one of the floating candles that lit the room, and enlarged it till it way two feet wide and over six feet tall, then, with another spell, sent the candle barreling through the air so that it slammed into the fat woman that was shooting Harry with paintballs at pointblank range.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marge Dursley had spotted the giant candle flying at her like an oblong cannonball and had just been able to lift her left arm up to shield herself somewhat right before it hit her and sent her rolling across the floor, and almost collided with another of the paintball attackers who was covering some of the nearby students who were cowering under their table. The ulna bone in Marge's forearm had broken in a simple fracture, and her caterwauling when she stopped rolling drowned out most of the other sounds in the Great Hall for a moment.

Vernon, seeing his sister in distress, hurried down from the podium to come to her aid, ignoring the calls of his wife and the fighting going on around them. The invaders all steered clear of Vernon except for two large men with Plexiglas riot shields who took up a guarding position over him.

Hermione had tried to _accio_ Harry to her, but was dismayed to discover that she was unable to do that. Penelope rationalized the problem Hermione was having almost instantly. She _accio_ed a tablecloth, then manipulated it so that the tablecloth wrapped tightly around one of Harry's legs while avoiding any of the magic sucking gel splotches on him. Once the tablecloth had a firm enough grip, she summoned it to herself, dragging Harry along behind the tablecloth.

Hermione made a large opening in their barricade so that Harry could be brought in. She quickly sent a charm at the floor to make it slippery so he wasn't hurt too badly as he was dragged across the stone castle floor.

"Padfoot," Harry croaked, as the teen slid into relative safety.

Hermione immediately _accio_ed the black dog, who slid across the floor to them while leaving a bloody smear to mark his path.

Harry, though aching from the paintballs that had been shoot at him at point black range, and feeling incredibly weak from magic depletion, tried to reach out to touch him godfather, to see how bad he had been hurt from the bullets Vernon had shot him with.

"Don't touch him," Penelope practically shouted. "You're covered in those draining gels." The Ravenclaw prefect turned to the muggleborn. "Hermione, help Harry out of those robes, and use the tablecloth to wipe that stuff off. I'll see to Lord Black."

The large black dog let out a soft whimper that seemed to cut through the heart of everyone close enough to hear.

Penelope cast a basic diagnostic spell, checking to see the extent of the damage as well as to see if either of the two bullets were still within the canine's body. Fortunately, both bullets had passed completely through the dog's body. The Seventh Year student grabbed her handbag and brought out a moleskin bag. She shoved arm into the small bag up to her elbow as she searched. After a few more moments, Penelope pulled her arm out of the obviously enchanted bag, clutching two vials in her fist. The first vial seemed to be made of a dark green seaweed sludge that she put directly over the bullet wounds and then placed bandages over them. The second vial was orange with small purple chunks, which she had to slowly pour down the dog's throat.

Next to them, Hermione used her wand to cut Harry's dress robes off while trying to avoid any of the gel stain marks that Marge had shot him with. Harry, though more tired than he had ever felt in his life, tried, listlessly, to wipe the gel from his bruised body with the tablecloth and nearby napkins. Yet, even as he went about this task, his eyes never left Sirius.

Fleur, having taken stock of the situation, had decided enough was enough. Rising some from the protection of the barricade, she concentrated on focusing her Veela allure on the nearest male attackers coming toward them as she stood up. The men quickly became dazed, their paintball guns falling from their limp hands. Fleur grinned at her easy victory, and was caught completely unprepared by a hailstorm of paintballs that hit her painfully in the chest.

Fleur's antagonist was a smallish middle-age woman with brown hair. "Men may be easy prey for you, dearie, but to me you just make a great target."

The men snapped out of their dazed state, and retrieved their fallen weapons form the floor while looking embarrassed.

"Thanks, Gracie," one of the men said, with a tip of his hat.

"You just watch yourself, George. Those Veela birds don't play well when riled up."

Fleur had fallen backward due to the impact of the paintballs, making her land hard onto her butt. Now in a dazed state of her own, she stared down in horror at the gel stains on her dress. Feeling lightheaded, she fumbled for her wand and tried to vanish the gel-marking on her clothing and skin, which only made her more tired.

"No, don't do that, Fleur. It has to be removed a different way." Penelope Clearwater took the Veela's wand away and began to carefully use some of the leftover napkins to wipe away the gel material that was on Fleur's skin, before using a delicate cutting charm to remove the splotchy areas on Fleur's dress, which ended up making her dress somewhat resemble a bizarre Swiss cheese pattern. Even worse, Penelope had had to use some napkins to fill in some of the bare areas now around her chest so that the Veela wasn't indecent.

Meanwhile, nearby, Cedric and Cho, crouching low, had made their way over to the Officials table. Cedric had transfigured their chairs into near body-sized shields to protect them from the magic-sucking pellets that came their way as they moved over to the adults, first to help them, and secondly to see if any of the adults knew why this was happening, and even more important, how to stop it before someone became seriously injured.

The only able-bodied adult they saw at the Officials table was Delores Umbridge. The Ministry official was using Percy Weasley's body as a propped up shield that she aimed around while firing some rather nasty curses. Percy seemed to have lost consciousness and was covered with gel splatters all over the front of his body. Umbridge cackled gleefully as she unleashed spells that she hadn't had opportunity to use since she had read about them in some old family books on dark magic.

They had to carefully move around the fallen forms of Hagrid and Headmistress Maxime. Both of the part-Giants struggled to sit up, though it appeared that their very mass was keeping them from doing so. That did not stop them from flailing out in their attempts to do so,

Cedric and Cho moved on until they came to Albus Dumbledore, hoping that they could help him so that he could end this sudden siege being waged upon them. They were quickly disheartened to see that Dumbledore looked to be older and frailer than they thought possible. The headmaster's robes were had received several pellets that left their mark, though it was his beard that seemed to show the trail of the magic-absorbing gel that had struck him.

"What do we do now?" Cho asked, worriedly.

They were both startled as they heard a feline meow as a cat.

"Professor?" Cedric said in surprise.

The cat transferred into an exhausted, seated version of their Transfiguration professor. "Oh my, that left me more exhausted than I thought it would," she said.

"What happened to you?" Cedric asked, as he positioned himself so that his makeshift shield protected the professor as well as himself.

She rubbed a hand over her brow. "One of those projectile things hit my wand, effectively coating it and some of my hand. I had used my shawl to buffer myself from more of those things. Whatever those gel things are seemed to suck the magic from out of you. I was fortunate enough to wipe it all off before I became too drained."

"Here, professor, drink this." Cho Chang handed her a small vial. "It's a pepper-up potion I brought so that I wouldn't get too tired at the ball. It should help you some."

McGonagall nodded her thanks, then emptied the contents of the vial down her throat. Her eyes blinked rapidly for a moment as she felt the sudden rush the potion provided. "Oh, yes, that does make me feel somewhat better. I may not be at full strength, but now I feel like I can use a wand without passing out."

It was then that she spotted a certain wand lying on the stone floor next to Dumbledore's chair. It seemed to call to her, wanting her to use it. She reached out a hand toward the elder wood wand, and I flew into her hand, emitting a flair of sparks once it connected with her hand.

Cho and Cedric looked at her in confusion. "I don't understand," Cedric said. "That's the headmaster's wand, but it seems to be choosing you. How is that possible?"

"I'm not certain," Minerva spoke gravely. "But hopefully, it is an answer we can learn at a later time." She cast a repelling spell at one of the attackers that was about to come around Hagrid's fallen frame. Cedric transfigured an empty chair into a large Greman Shephard, then sent it after another of the assailants.

Hagrid managed to get one of his large hands on another of the goons that thought the half-Giant was not a problem. The man fell back from Hagrid who still had a grip on the man's leg. Maxime was able to grab the man's arm and disarm him of his weapon. Neither of the two half-Giants were able to do more than hold onto the man, so Cedric used the opportunity to _stupefy_ the interloper.

Minerva nodded to them. "Thank you, Rubeus, Olympe. I wish I could do something for you both right now, but I cannot quickly remove those gel things that you are both covered with in enough time. I must help the students."

"Go," Maxime spoke in a gasp. "Protect them."

Another hail of pellets came their way, Cedric and Cho's transfigured shields protecting them from the sudden hail, the results of which, their shields partially transformed back into chairs. Cedric quickly pulled off his robe and draped it over what was left of his shield/chair so that it would last longer. Cho followed his example and used Bagman's coat that he had hanging on the back of his chair. In doing so she noticed that a magically exhausted Bagman had fallen headfirst into some pudding and was nearly drowning in it, and was able to pull him back so that he slid under the table.

They all jumped when they heard a sudden outcry from Umbridge. The woman fell back from where she had been casting spells, letting Percy's limp form slide under the table. Umbridge turned toward them, and they could finally see that the pellet had struck her right on her forehead.

"Use a cloth and wipe it off, Delores." Minerva called out. "It's sucking the magic out of your body. Hurry! Wipe it off!"

Delores, with a look of terror, she sat down on the stone floor and dug into her small purse, until she pulled out a large blanket, and began to carefully and thoroughly clean the gel substance off of her. She could be heard muttering with a tremoring tone, "I knew muggles were stealing magic and passing their children off as muggleborns! The Ministry will deal with this! There will be a reckoning! The natural order of things will be preserved! In fact they will be made better! I will see to it!"

McGonagall and her two students left the hysterical witch, though they were each tempted to stun her.

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Ron cowered behind his tipped over table, watching wide-eyed as his brothers flung curses and some of their self-made Weasley products at the attackers. Fred was currently controlling one of their bottles of Tiny Twisters that he had loosed, and after it made it's way among three of their attackers, enlarged it until it was twice the size of a person. The result was two of the men were knocked over, their paintball pellets going off target while the third man was caught up in the mini-twister, spinning round and round while screaming for his life.

George was covering the other side. He had thrown out two paper packets that broke open upon landing near the invaders, which created two small swamps, each nearly ten feet in diameter, one inhabited by an alligator and the other showing a shark fin cutting through the surface of the water. The floor near the two swamps he coated with shear ice just to make it more difficult, as one of the paintgun men discovered when they slipped near the edge of the swamp with the alligator and had the reptile snapping at his feet.

Lee Jordan was using the _Wassiwasi _spell to fire pieces of Ton-Tongue Toffee into the attackers' mouths, which both impeded and aggravated the shooters when their tongue suddenly started swelling up to enormous masses as it grew out of their mouths and fell onto the floor, though it only seemed to last for a few seconds.

Angelina, Alicia and Lee's date, an older Ravenclaw who Ron didn't know, were using the more basic defense spells with mixed results. _Expelliarmus_ and the _Accio_ charm were somehow completely useless. The attackers also seemed resistant to an extent to the _Stupefy_ spell, as it only seemed to make their opponents light-headed for a moment or two. Angelina's _Avis_ charm worked really well until the man with the device that created a mist with the gel stuff that had earlier seemed to eradicate the Bloody Baron, misted the conjured birds, making them melt away to nothingness.

"Ron!" Katie Bell, paused in her spellcasting to nudge the boy. "Fight already!"

That seemed to be enough to snap him out of his surprise over the situation. "Right, right, I should do something."

He clutched his wand tightly in his fist as he tried to think of what spell he should use. Finally, he focused on an abandoned table close to the invaders. "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" The table started to rise, but one of the paintball attackers just turned and shot it a few time, releasing it from Ron's magical grip and letting gravity make it fall back down.

Ron stared in surprise, mostly due to the sudden drain in the magic he had been using. "Okay, that didn't work very well."

He took a moment to see what spells some of the others were using, only to realize rather quickly that many of them were unfamiliar to him or outside his ability to use well.

That in mind, he looked over to where his sister and several of his year mates had been sitting. Seamus had somehow evidently caused one of the paintball guns to explode, thereby resulting in Seamus collapsing in magical exhaustion. Dean was trying to use some plates to deflect paintballs from hitting any of their group, but he was quickly running out of plates to protect them with. Ginny was using her bat-bogey hex with limited results. The mucus-formed mini-bats seemed to fall apart within seconds of forming. Parvati and Lavender were using repelling spells, but, again, with limited results, only slowed the progress of the attackers. Padma used a spell that Ron had never seen before that had temporarily turned the head of one of those assaulting them into a large purple tentacle that flapped frantically about on the now frantic body. The hexes that the Patil sisters' Durmstrang dates were casting seemed questionably dark to him, especially when one of the attacking women suddenly had tarantulas in the place of all the hair on her head.

Just as it appeared that the students were turning the tide against the enemy, a large invisible covering had been pulled off a large device that had a large glass container with what appeared to be filled with more of the magic-sucking gel material. On the lower section of the device was a seesaw style pump that two of the enemy were manually pushing up and down. Another of the antagonists held the end of a long fire hose, which he opened up, and began to hose down the closest students with the foam gel substance.

"Ron!"

Katie Bell socked him hard in the shoulder, bringing his attention back to her.

"Don't just stand there like a lump, are you a wizard or not?" she spoke reproachfully, even as she wiped away some of the gel pellets that had hit her in the shoulder.

Ron gapped for a moment, struggling for something to say. "I want to fight, I just don't know what to do?" he admitted.

She frowned. Katie Bell had heard that it was a common thing for first-timers in a firefight to freeze up. It would be like all the spells that they had learned in their years at school were suddenly gone from their head. She was not sure what to tell him until she saw someone waving from one of the other tables.

"Then go and help Dudley. He's waving for you to come over."

Ron looked back over the table, and sure enough, Dudley was over at an abandoned table and motioning for Ron to join him.

Ron let out a small whimper. He glanced back at Katie, but she only looked back at him with disgust. "Fine. I'll go," he said, his voice hitting a higher pitch than he would have liked. He exuded a heavy sigh, then adjusted his crouch so that he was in a sprinter's stance. Giving out another sigh, he raced over to where to where Dudley was, almost sliding into the cover of the tipped over table. To his surprise, he hadn't been hit by anything.

"I – I made it!"

"About time," Dudley snarked.

Ron glowered at Harry's cousin. "Hey, what the bloody hell is your father trying to do?"

"I don't know," Dudley admitted snappishly. "He doesn't seemed to be acting like himself."

"What, you think someone is controlling him?" Ron asked in surprise, realizing that the implications could change the 'how' and 'why' of things that were happening.

"I hope so. Otherwise…" Dudley choose not to think about what he would do if it turned out that his father was doing this of his own free will. "Listen, this is what I want us to do."

Ron listened in growing disbelief to Dudley's plan. "You're bloody crazy!"

"Do you have a better idea?" Dudley snapped.

"No," Ron admitted.

"So are you a Gryffindor or not!" One of the many things Dudley had learned from his fellow Hufflepuffs was how Gryffindors could be easily manipulated if calling their courage into question.

"Fine!" growled Ron.

Both boys knelt on either end of the table they were using as protection. Dudley quietly counted to three, then both boy lifted the table up and charged forward, rushing the foam spraying device, knocking over at least one of the paintball gun shooters on their way. In the last few feet, the person manning the firehose aimed the hose at them, but the foam did almost nothing in slowing down the momentum of the table rushing at them, and was himself smashed into the device, resulting in himself being rendered unconscious.

Those guarding the device turned to attack the two young wizards at one. Ron managed to cast a _Jelly-Fingers_ curse with his wand at one of his attackers. Another of the attackers had been hit by someone else by a _Melafors_ jinx, which encased the woman's head inside a pumpkin.

Dudley, meanwhile, closed the distance between him and his opponent, surprising the man, and began boxing with all he could muster, effectively knocking the man out in three quick strikes. Dudley ignored the paintball hits he received the best he could as he lashed out at anyone else who tried to regain control of the foam spraying device. He soon began to succumb to magical exhaustion, which was hitting him harder than any of the exercises he did at Smeltings Academy for boxing. His arms feeling like they were made of lead was not new to him, but was expected. It was t feeling inside him, a place that he now believed was where magic was stored inside him, that left him feel like he was being hollowed out. Or more like a juice box that was being sucked dry.

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear his mother calling out to him, but he ignored it. Instead, he chose to stop another man rushing at him. He stepped back, only to trip over Ron who had already passed out from all the paintballs he'd been hit with. When Dudley's head hit the pump device, everything went blank for him.

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Draco Malfoy soon tipped his table over to use for shelter once he saw others doing it. It was ironic that he was in the furthest back table due to him taking Myrtle to the Yule Ball. If he had taken a normal date – one who was not a ghost, as well as someone preferably from Slytherin – then Draco would have been sitting at one of the prime tables in the front where the attackers were most prominent.

Those that had been at his table right before the attack were him, Myrtle, a Beauxbatons couple that seemed to have a strong fascination with ghosts much to Myrtle's delight, and a Gryffindor named Cormac McLaggen along with his Sixth Year Hufflepuff date who seemed to have realized too late that she should have found anyone else to take her to the ball.

But once the attack started, why they were where they were didn't matter anymore. Instead, they quickly began firing their spells to aid their fellow students. McLaggen actually shot a man trying to sneak up upon them with an invisibility cloak, but the look of surprise in McLaggen's face, led Draco to think that it was an accident.

Draco could see the old legendary ex-auror, Mad-Eye Moody flinging curses and hexes in a rapid fashion that made the youngest Malfoy very glad he wasn't sending them his way.

Then, it happened. Mad-Eye had been struck by four paintballs and something seemed to start to change in his appearance. But before Draco or anyone else could see what it was, Mad-Eye knocked over a lone table and dove behind it in an almost frantic manner. Even more unusual was when Mad-Eye's prosthetic popped out from the table and rolled around on the stone floor.

From their position in the rear, Draco had a good view of what many of the students were doing. He was also able to determine which spells didn't seem to be working very well, and adjusted accordingly. He was also surprised, though, when he noted that several students didn't appear to be trying to fight.

"Why in the name of Salazar Slytherin aren't they doing something?" he complained out loud.

Myrtle, huddling next to him, answered. "They can't. Some didn't bring their wands. But with my ghostly sight I can see there are some non-Hogwarts house-elves going around taking the wands of anyone who doesn't have them in their hands."

He blinked in surprise, pausing only to cast a series of leg-locking jinxes. He regarded Myrtle for a moment. He hadn't thought much of the fact that she, as one of the ghosts of Hogwarts, was linked to the castle that she haunted.

"How are non-Hogwarts house-elves able to take the wands away from witches and wizards, even if they are not in their hands?"

Myrtle appeared to be close to a state of shock. "It- it was what the fat muggle said up there. In front of the Headmaster, who is also the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump, the other staff of the school, as well as various members of the Ministry, Dursley proclaimed that he was the husband of Lady Ravenclaw, which, thanks to the Wizarding anti-progressive politics, makes him in charge of all that she owns and the rights and privileges that go with it. He also acknowledged himself the guardian of Harry Potter, thereby placing himself in charge of all the rights and privileges that Harry has as Lord Slytherin. And now that he is the head of one of the Houses of Hogwarts, and the custodial head of the only other House known to still have heirs, he can allow what he wants inside Hogwarts and on its grounds."

Draco frowned. "I refuse to believe that this has all been orchestrated by that fat oaf. No, someone else is manipulating his strings. We just have to determine who it is."

Draco cast another curse, but missed. "What about the other ghosts? Can't they help?"

Myrtle let out a sobbing moan. "N-no. Because of our connection to the castle, we have to obey either the Headmaster, or the Heirs of the Four Founders. As it is, the Bloody Baron risked him very existence by rising up against them."

Draco detected something in what she said. "So you can detect a connection between the Dursley oaf and these scum?"

She nodded, fear filling her eyes. She wasn't sure what was coming in the near future, but she wasn't liking it. "It might be something like a magical letter of intent or a contract between them and Dursley. I'm not sure, but it is there, and all that are bound to Hogwarts can feel it."

"You mean like the portraits and house-elves?"

She nodded while letting out another wail. Behind them, Cormac McLaggen fell backwards after taking a pellet in the cheek. They ignored his howling as he rolled around on the ground clutching his face

Myrtle let out another wail of her own. Draco fired twice more before ducking back behind the table, which received several thunks from paintballs hitting the other side.

"You know, if we weren't fighting for our lives, this could actually be fun."

Myrtle cried out even louder now.

Draco looked over the table and fired off a _Serpensortia_ spell, causing a large poisonous snake to land between three paintballers that were coming his way.

The female Beauxbatons student nudged Draco. "You should talk to her," she suggested.

"What?" he said in confusion.

"She is upset!" the French student said. "You should say something to calm her down." She then gave him the evil eye. Her date had a similar glint of anger that made Draco feel very uncomfortable.

Draco had heard about ghost activists who tended to be radical about their concerns for the '_disembodied_', but this was his first time ever interacting with them. More concerning was that he was stuck behind a table with two of them, and Cormac's Hufflepuff date didn't seemed to want to help him any either.

With an aggravated shake of his head, he said, "Fine, but then you are going to have to do the shooting while talk to her."

The male French grunted and some sent a swarm of conjured hornets across the way. The female Beauxbatons student shot out an _Incarcerous _spell, and seemed to just want to ignore Draco until he did something that made him worthy in her eyes before she would acknowledge him again.

Incredulous, Draco scooted back, but still in the shielded area of the tipped over table. "Myrtle," he whispered.

The Ravenclaw muggle-born ghost looked spooked enough to flee through the wall, but she looked at him with those sad eyes that made even him feel guilty.

"Myrtle, if you are worried about being obliterated like the Bloody Baron, you should just go."

Her face began to pout even more. "I'm not worried about me. I just don't want them killing you!" she wailed, as she began floating around in a small circle.

The Slytherin student shook his head, confused. "I thought you wanted me to die and become a ghost?"

"I do!" she shrieked. "But if they kill you with those things that do away with magic, you won't have a chance of becoming a ghost!"

Draco knew girls could be confusing at the best of times, but Myrtle had her own special brand of Extra-Crazy that probably had something to do with her haunting a girls' toilet for fifty years. Being killed by a staring into the eyes of basilisk probably didn't help.

He had only agreed to take the ghost to the Yule Ball so that she would spy on Potter for him. Her plans for his demise so that he could haunt her toilet with her did not enter into his plans at all.

"Okay, listen to me. You want me not to die here, and I don't want to die here either. So here is what I propose. You leave your '_Myrtle_' suit here and go search the castle for anyway to save me. Alright?"

She paused and stared in such a way that made him think she was looking directly into his soul.

"No," she quietly said.

Draco blinked in surprise. "What do you mean '_no_'? You just said you didn't want me to die here!"

"I'm willing to go and do what you said," she responded. "But you have to promise me something first."

"What now?" he said, exasperated.

"I want you to promise that if you die in the castle that you will come back as a ghost and haunt my toilet with me!" She had her chin stuck out to affirm her decision.

He cast a suspicious eye at her. "And you won't actively try to kill me, just to make me a ghost?"

"My word of honor."

He had no intention of dying until he was a much older man, so it seemed like a moot point. He definitely had no plans of becoming a ghost. "Fine. If I die here in the castle, I'm all yours. You happy now?"

She gave a squeal of delight, and flew at him, covering his surprised face with kisses. She then withdrew her ghostly form from her '_Myrtle_' suit and soared through the wall in search of help to save her man.

Draco had been left lying flat on his back, stunned by the kissing assault. "I'll never understand females."

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The foam shot from the firehoses quickly overwhelmed most of the students. There was no doubt who would win this battle.

"Enough!" called out a loud voice of a man standing at the entrance of the Great Hall.

Several people did a double take as they looked first at this new man to the shocked face of Severus Snape who was looking out from where he'd been taking a stand at the staff table. Both men had the same, nearly identical face, from the hook nose to the condescending sneer.

"My name is Samuel Kingson, the squib son of Alfred and Beatrice Prince. I am the acting representative for Mr. Vernon Dursley. I believe it would be wisest to discuss terms before anyone else gets hurt."

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_**AUTHOR's**____**NoTeS**__**: **___

_I hope you all liked my Battle of the Yule Ball._

_And Sirius survived, just like I planned. And McGonagall now is the acknowledged master of the Elder Wand. It happened back in chapter 15 if anyone wants to go back and reread._

_Yes, Samuel Kingson is related to Severus Snape. You can just imagine how that family reunion is going to shape up._


	26. Chapter 26

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 26**

By Ordinaryguy2

**DECEMBER 31, 1994**

**SATURDAY, 7:20 PM**

**NEAR THE GREAT HALL**

Barty Crouch Jr. let out a great sigh as he leaned against the stone wall of the secret passage. Once he had been hit by a few of those magic syphoning gelatin pellets, Barty's polyjuice potion disguise had begun to quickly fall away despite the fact that he wasn't due for any more of the potion for nearly twenty minutes. He'd been fortunate to be able to dive behind a solitary table no one else had been using. He'd had to struggle to get the prosthetic leg off as his true leg began to regrow to its normal shape. Unfortunately, due to his having to deal with his leg or risk a bizarre manglation, he'd been unable to remove Moody's magical eye from where it was strapped onto his head. So when he finally was able to remove the magical eye, it popped away, rolling out in the open on the stone floor of the battlefield that the Great Hall had become. For his troubles, Barty's newly regrown eye was bruised due when it forced the magical eye out of _it's_ socket.

Fortunately, before his cover as Mad-Eye Moody had been blown, Crouch had been able to drape a tablecloth over himself and get to cover by ducking down a little known secret passageway. The only problem being that the passageway had already been occupied by a motley group of leather outfitted men that claimed to be the band that Dumbledore hired called The Weird Sisters. It didn't take Crouch long to _reducto_ his way through them in order to do away with any witnesses to his true form.

Now, having expelled much of the reserve of his remaining magical energies, the escaped prisoner of Azkaban quickly downed two pepper-up potions, which helped more with the energy levels of his body more than aid his depleted magical core.

The Death Eater slid down the wall as he caught his breath and got his bearings. It was only a moment later that he noticed one of the band members was staring up at him through lifeless eyes.

"Humph, what kind of name is The Weird Sisters? You're all blokes, for Merlin's sake!"

He let out a grunt as he climbed to his feet. "And that stuff you play… that's not music; it's an assault to the senses! No, if you lot wanted to know what real music is, you'd have learned from the styles of some of the greats, like _Stubby Boardman and the Hobgoblins_. Now that was a true band for the ages."

Crouch glanced back to make sure that no one was coming after him, then carefully stepped over body parts and pools of blood as he began his way to go to his quarters in the castle to hopefully get a change of clothing and definitely some more polyjuice potion.

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**SATURDAY, 8:02 PM**

**THE GREAT HALL**

Things were quieter now that the squibs had control of the Great Hall, minus weeping here and there. Wands had been collected from the witches and wizards whether they had some remaining magic or not. Those who had had their magical cores too depleted were unconscious. The squib in charge of monitoring the prisoners had allowed Madam Pomfrey and Penelope Clearwater to attend to the injured and comatose students, but under extreme supervision, monitoring every potion before it was administered.

The uninjured students were moved over to one wall and forced to sit while guards armed with paintball guns watched over them. Tables and chairs had been removed from that area so that the captives could not use them as barriers for protection or be unobserved.

Hermione had Harry resting against the wall as she carefully tended to him. The squibs were not taking any chances with Harry, to the point that they had shackled him with magical inhibiter cuffs.

"I can't believe they are doing this," grumbled Hermione.

"They won't get away with it," growled Ron, as he inched a little closer, closing the gap.

"They must have some plan," Dudley added, as he slightly scooted a little to his left, Lavender doing likewise so that they remained close together.

"Hold where you are," Hermione instructed quietly. "We don't want them to become suspicious."

"I'd love to give them a reason," Harry grumbled weakly, his eyes fluttering weakly as he strived to remain conscious. "If I didn't feel like a herd of hippogriffs had ran over me twice, I'd give them a reason to head for the hills."

"Shh," Hermione told him, as she took his hand and pushed a trickle of her magic into him, only daring to do small amounts so that the squib guards wouldn't notice the small yellow glow around their hands. It had been her that had suggested that Dudley and Ron move more in front of them to mask what she was doing. She knew that with the magic suppression cuffs on her boyfriend that he would not be able to use his magic, but he would at least not be so weak that he couldn't move around.

Hermione had been one of the few witches and wizards to survive the skirmish and remain unblemished by the pellets of magic-sucking gel or the sprayed foam. Before any of the squib attackers had noticed she was unmarked, she took some of the gel that had been reduced to ash after siphoning off others and made marks with it on her face and hands. She had noticed Luna doing likewise, as did an older Hufflepuff student that she didn't know. Looking to make sure no one spied her, she spotted Draco Malfoy mimicking what she was doing. Catching the Slytherin's eye, he quickly turned away, ignoring the fact that she had caught him copying her.

As the students were herded in groups to the south wall, all wands were confiscated and placed in a large metal box with ornate brass dragon figures on every visible side. A few wizards and witches refused, or hide their wands somewhere on their person. None of it worked as the squibs had their house-elves searching everyone. She had been reluctant to give up her wand, but since they weren't snapping the wands they took, she handed hers over.

On a table nearby, other confiscated items were placed. The Weasley twins had taken up a good amount of the table surface with all the things they had on them; things from other students included several flasks of firewhisky, small potion bottles for various purposes, enchanted combs and brushes, purses, as well as Colin Creevey's camera. Even under heavy guard, the Weasley twins had managed to turn one of the squib into a crazed canary for nearly a minute before reverting back to himself, though covered in yellow feathers. This bit of mischief earned the two pranksters magical restraining cuffs as well as their ankles shackled with large, heavy balls and chains.

"How do they have house-elves working for them?" Ron could be heard grumbling. "Those over there checking people aren't even Hogwarts house-elves."

Lavender wiped away a tear that was wreaking havoc with her makeup. "I wonder what happened to the Hogwarts elves. I've tried calling to them, but none have responded. Not even Minty who helps me with my makeup and hair."

"They're all bonded to the castle," Hermione explained. "And the speech Mr. Dursley made purposefully bound them all to him. The house-elves can't do anything without his approval. I doubt that the ghosts or portraits can't either. Or at least not much."

They were surprised when Harry tried to sit up suddenly with excitement.

"Harry, are you all right?"

"Yeah," he gasped, blinking rapidly. "I just realized – we do have someone that can help!" His head dipped as a dizzy spell seem to hit him, and he seemed to slump against the wall as if he had passed out.

Hermione pulled him close into a hug, and increased the amount of magic she sent into him, hoping it would restore him.

One of the guards came closer to check on the commotion, but once he saw Harry slumped over he had a house-elf bring them some water and a towel.

"At least they aren't totally heartless," Lavender said snidely after she accepted the glass of water and towel.

Hermione poured a little of the water onto the towel, then used it to wipe her boyfriend's face. After a few moments, he began to groggily shake his head as he woke.

"What…?" His bleary eyes moved from one person to another.

"Harry, what did you mean?" Hermione quietly asked.

"What…?" He turned to her with confusion clearly evident on his tired face.

She drew in a patient breath. "You said you knew someone who could help. Who did you mean?"

"Hmm?" he responded, looking more confused.

Hermione decide on a firmer tone. "Harry, who did you mean when you said you knew someone that could help us?"

His eyes blinked rapidly and he straightened just a bit. "Oh, yeah. I was thinking of Dobby."

"Dobby?" Hermione repeated, confused.

"Yeah, he's not bound to the castle." He paused to take a deep breath. "Dobby was leery about bonding to anyone, so… Dumbledore just hired him to work at Hogwarts."

She bit her lip. Several questions pertaining to S.P.E.W., her house-elf advocate program, began to build up in her busy mind, which she quickly squashed down and filed it away before they became the central focus of her thoughts, and interfered with what she needed to think about. "Then it might depend on how the contract was worded, if there was an actual contract or just a verbal agreement. Was he hired by Dumbledore, or the school? Does the-"

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron hissed. "Just call for him and find out already!"

She hesitated, wanting to verbally rebuke Ron for barging into her thought process, but knew that in doing so she would most likely draw the attention of their captors, and that was something they were trying to not do. So, without further ado, she simply called out, "Dobby?"

They waited in patient anticipation for a moment but nothing happened.

Harry frowned, then called out himself. "Dobby."

Still nothing happened.

Hermione comforted him by pulling him into a gentle hug. "It was a good try, Har-"

A loud explosion in the distance could be heard coming from outside the castle. One of the squibs called out to the house-elves that served them, sending them out to investigate what now seemed to be a string of explosions, one after the other. The house-elves bobbed their heads and quickly popped away.

"What do you suppose that was?" asked Dudley.

Ron raised a speculative eyebrow. "Normally, I'd think it was the work of my brothers. Except they are too tied up to have done it."

A sudden cracking sound had Dobby appear huddled behind a startled Dudley and Lavender. A grayish, fatigued house-elf looked on the verge of collapse, as he sat there and panted weakly.

They wanted to ask Dobby questions but had to wait as a guard walked slowly past them. They had seen little of the house-elf since the debacle of events when they moved the dragons down into the Chamber of Secrets, so this downtrodden look on him came as quite a surprise.

Finally, Hermione could wait no more. As quietly as she could, she put forth her questions to the house-elf. "Dobby, what is wrong with you? What happened?"

"Dobby… be all right. First Dobby come to help Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir."

Harry had learned how stubborn Dobby could be back in his second year. And his interpretation of '_helping_' sometimes left a lot to be desired. Regardless, Dobby's condition was paramount if he was going to able to help them. "Dobby," he said quietly, but sternly. "Tell me plainly: what is happening to you? Why are you in this condition?"

The house-elf fidgeted, or more perhaps his body went through some mild tremors. Finally, with a weaker, embarrassed tone, he answered. "Dobby is suffering from not being bound to a wizard."

"How strong are you?" Hermione asked, concerned while running a calculated eye over his appearance.

"Tell the whole truth," Harry insisted. The young wizard was feeling a bit stronger now, though he doubted he could walk a straight line if he had to. He'd be lucky to just be able to walk at this point.

Dobby weakly tugged on his ears. "Dobby has used up most of magic helping move dragons and dead giant snake and bringing Goblins from Gringotts," he admitted reluctantly.

Harry gave the house-elf and pained sympathetic look. "Dobby, you have to tell me if I'm asking too much of you. I don't want you to wear yourself out because of me." And the teen did care. He had run a big risk freeing Dobby from the Malfoys, but he couldn't bear the thought of the house-elf suffering under their ministrations. Even so, he did not want to be the cause of him suffering, too.

"Dobby does not mind," said the house-elf. "Dobby happy to serve such a great one as Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir."

Harry hated the long title that the house-elves had tacked onto him, but didn't have the heart to ask them to stop. He wasn't sure if they could even though he wanted them to. "What if you were to bond with me? Would that help you?"

With eyes wide in wonder, the house-elf continued to stare at the teenager in hope and wonder.

"Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir would do that for Dobby? Oh, Dobby is not worthy!" he began to blubber.

The sudden wailing of Dobby was quickly covered up by Lavender as she dramatically collapsed against a surprised Dudley. The squib guards were only momentarily distracted by the caterwauling, but quickly dismissed it. Lavender was not the first young lady to breakdown suddenly in the Great Hall tonight. Nor was she likely to be the last.

Once the guards were no longer looking, Harry asked the house-elf again about bonding to him, and how to do it.

"Youse just has to say that youse are accepting Dobby as a house-elf."

It seemed simple enough to Harry. "Ok, I-"

"No!" cried out Dobby.

In order to cover-up for the house-elf's outburst, Lavender quickly pretended to have more hysterics as she threw herself against a confused, yet delighted, Dudley.

The house-elf hunched down behind his human shield until the guards attention was drawn over to something that the Weasley twins were doing. Surprisingly, it was a name-calling argument with several of the Slytherins. With tension high, the guards began to threaten the instigators with their paintball guns before they settled down.

Hunkered down, Dobby explained his earlier outburst with teary eyes. "The great Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir cannot bind to anyone, not even a lowly house-elf, with magic-stopping cuffs on himself."

Harry's lips twisted in frustration. "That does present a problem." He then turned to Hermione. "But there is also a simple solution, don't you think, Hermione?"

Hermione blinked as she considered what he hinted at. He couldn't mean… "Surely you can't be serious?"

"I don't know who Shirley is, but Sirius is my uncle," Harry deadpanned.

The cold glare Harry received made him just a little worried.

"I see you are feeling a little better," she said coolly.

Harry managed a weak grin. "Some, yeah, thanks to you." He took her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss, then winked.

The look he got told him that he wasn't going to be forgiven easily.

"How can you expect me," she began to quietly rant, "to take on a house-elf? I'm against house-elves being slaves; and you want me to become the owner of one?"

Harry hung his head, though he held on to her hand. "Hermione, consider our options. What other choice do we have?"

Her mind was considering the options, even though the thought of owning another intelligent being was abhorrent to her. Stabilizing Dobby would be a good thing, true; she hated seeing him suffer like he evidently was. But how much would it help him, and how fast would he recover? Would Dobby even be able to get strong enough soon enough to help them? And after it was all over, would Dobby be okay being freed again right after he was no longer needed, or would that be too much for the house-elf's damaged psyche? And how did this wizard/house-elf bond work? What if it did something to her magical core? What if the secret to binding house-elves correctly was a pure-blood secret, and anyone who did it wrongly then became a squib?

On the other hand, she was one of the few who could do it right now since she had not had her magical core depleted like the majority of others. She was also the only one she trusted enough to still treat Dobby as an equal if she were to own him.

"Harry, I don't know if I can do that."

He gently patted her hand. "I'll trust in your decision."

She grimaced in response. "That isn't making it any easier," she responded.

"Hey," Dudley said, looking back at them. "Any idea where the other house-elves popped off to, or when they will be back? Cause I think you have to have figured out what you are going to do before they return here."

"Dobby?" Harry looked at the house-elf in askance.

Dobby managed a weak smile. "Dobby feels youse calling for Dobby. Dobby knew bad squibs' house-elves would not let Dobby to you, so Dobby distracted them."

"Distracted them how?" Harry asked.

The house-elf looked nervous now. "Dobby went to Shriekey Shack, and set off firework experiments being stored there by prankster Weasleys. Magical fireworks are not easy to contain, not even for house-elves! Dobby knows it wasn't right, but Dobby had to help the great Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir and his friends."

Harry actually chuckled at that, picturing house-elves trying to chase after magical fireworks across the night sky. "Don't worry about the twins. I'll happily pay for anything they lost."

That had settled the matter for Hermione. If Dobby can be so brave in trying to come and help them, then she could face the prospect of owning a house-elf (which would hopefully be a very short time). "Okay, Dobby, I'll take you as my house-elf."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth, a light purple glow formed over Dobby before seeping into his body. The color of his skin began to improve within seconds, while the look of weariness began to leave, too.

"Feeling better, Dobby?" Harry asked.

Dobby nodded excitedly, sending his ears flapping around. "Dobby is feeling much, much, much better! Master Lord Slytherin Harry Potter sir's Hermie is very, very strong! Makes Dobby much stronger, too!"

"Oh!" Hermione said, in surprise.

" '_Oh_', what?" Harry asked.

"We forgot to take into consideration that my magical core has been somewhat amplified from when I helped to plug up the holes in your magical core! We don't know how that will affect Dobby!"

"Dobby feels much stronger than ever before thanks to his new mistress!"

For her part, Hermione blushed. "Well, Dobby seems good. Now we just need to come up with a plan."

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Albus Dumbledore was feeling every one of his one hundred and twenty-seven years. He'd never felt so drained before, not even after the defeat of Gellert. And that the source of his being overcome having been done by squibs while inside Hogwarts was even more daunting and tiring to think about.

He'd been propped up in a chair and shackled with magic-inhibiting cuffs. He was at a table which was fortunate as he could lean against it and keep from toppling over. The room was a rarely used conference room just off from the Great Hall.

Seated to his right was Minerva, who looked to be almost as weary as Dumbledore, except for the spitting looks see was giving to their captors. On the other side of her was Severus. His seething face showed several welts from the pellets he'd been hit with to the point that he looked like he was suffering from a bad case of Dragon Pox. He could be heard gritting his teeth so hard that Albus was sure the man was going to need Poppy's aid in repairing them before this was over. On the other side of Albus, sat a similarly bound Delores Umbridge. Delores could be unbearable at the best of times. To that point, the squibs were not putting up with her any more than they had to. They recognized that she was a Ministry official so had placed her at the table along with the rest of them, but due to the vitriol of her words she had been roughly gagged with a burlap cloth that did not look at all clean. On the other side of Delores sat Percy Weasley with two black eyes and a broken arm that had been splinted and placed in a cloth sling. His color was undeterminable due to the amount of bruising over his skin surface. While he seemed as aware as Albus, which wasn't saying much, it was clear that he was there solely as a Ministry representative, and would be expected to remain quiet and just observe.

Opposite of them at the table sat four individuals, the only one of which Albus knew by sight was Petunia's husband, Vernon Dursley, though something about his eyes told Albus that he most likely was under some mild loyalty and/or confounding potions. The large, awful woman next to him was evidently Vernon's sister, Marge, about whom Mrs. Figg had given him several contemptuous reports. Her dog, Ripper, was living up to him name, as it tore at the bottom of the headmaster's dress robes as well as leaving a damp, potent scent mark on his new left shoe. A red-headed man sat across from Percy Weasley with a smug look on his face. Albus couldn't be sure, but he thought there was some family resemblance between the man and the Weasley clan. It was the last man at the table to whom the rest deferred. This time the family resemblance was as plain as the nose on his face. The facial resemblance between this man, Samuel Kingson, and Severus Snape, was undeniable, though the squib had large amounts of grey shading his hair. Samuel Kingson was definitely a squib from the nearly extinct Prince wizarding line.

"I think you are all sufficiently revived enough that we can begin now," stated Samuel Kingson. He nodded to a nearby house-elf to remove the gag from Umbridge, who spat with disgust, rubbing her chin and mouth onto her sleeve as well as she could to wipe fibers of the fabric as well as the taste away.

Albus' eyes darted to one side as he heard the scratches of a quill on parchment. He was surprised to see a Wizengamot-approved dictation quill recording the event. The headmaster made a slight cough before about to speak. Unfortunately not before Severus did.

"You can't possibly think you will get away with this!" Snape said as snidely as possible, causing both Minerva and Albus to quietly groan with annoyance.

Kingson tutted as if disappointed with a schoolboy. "I had wondered what your first words to me, the only other member of our extended family besides your mother that you have ever met, would be. Still, it is probably a better first impression than most get upon meeting you."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" snarled Severus, leaning as far across the table as his shackles would let him.

Samuel leaned in until they were almost nose to nose. "Someone who is unimpressed with your theatrics, boy. But on a more literal note, I am you mother's uncle. Samuel Kingson is the name I have taken, although I was born with the designation Samuel Tridious Prince. Now that that unpleasant formality had been seen to, can we please get back to the matter at hand?"

Begrudgingly, Severus slowly leaned back into his seat. "By all means, please. Continue with this façade. I can't wait to see how long it lasts."

Samuel gave his own snort of distain as he sat back in his seat. "I see your mother managed to teach you the mannerisms of the Prince family. As purebloods go, their behavior leaves others, including the Malfoys, by the wayside. A fat lot of good it does the Prince family since the two of us are all that remain."

"Hem, Hem," came an irritating polite cough that indicated no real politeness was to be had from it. "If I may intervene?" It may have come as a question, but it clearly wasn't. "What is it that you presume to accomplish with these theatrics? Surely you known that you-"

"Ah, yes, let's stick to that point," Dumbledore interceded, his tone tired and weak, but persevering for now to the task at hand. "What do you hope to accomplish, Mr. Kingson?"

The man lowered his head and chuckled to himself. "Tell me, Mr. Dumbledore, what do you know about squibs?"

Albus tried to study the man like a puzzle. He just felt so drained, it was taking everything he had to focus on the problem. He couldn't use Occlumency since he was too weak, but he suspected the man before him would be protected from that somehow anyway. No, this was a highly intelligent man who had thought this through over and over again for years, and was only now able to put his strategies in action. How was he expecting him to answer? Probably not honestly. But to do so might win him some favor with the man.

"I have known few squibs over the years. A few have worked for me, and I have done them some aid when I could." He paused to look in Kingson's calculating gaze, before continuing. "Several have passed on over the years. Bole Gusey. Ryan Brantly. Sirena Tarout. Marta Yarrow. Tomas Kinderlund, Currently, I only know two. Argus Filch and Arabella Figg,"

"Yes, I know who they are." Kingson admitted. "I know who all of them were. How they lived as well as how most of them died." He snapped his fingers and a house-elf brought him a cup of water from which he could sip. "All but Filch came to you in dire need of protection. Protection you guaranteed if they would serve as your eyes and ears. Most died in the last war with Voldemort. Brantly managed to make it to being a grandfather before dying in a plane crash. As for Arabella Figg, you had her spying on the last Potter, ignoring her reports of constant abuse-"

"Figg?" interrupted Marge Dursley. "Vernon, isn't that the name of that horrid cat lady that you would shove your nephew on in order to go on holiday? Has this bearded popinjay been spying on your home all these years through that feline lover?"

Vernon could only nod in response.

"Ohh! I should flay every cat she owns right in front of her and then feed them to Ripper!" Marge jumped to her feet in anger, her hands wishing to crush something. "In fact,… Urchin!" she shrilly cried out.

The timid house-elf appeared, looking up nervously at the large woman.

Before she could tell the house-elf anything, though, Kingson was beside Marge with a firm hand on her shoulder. "Sit down, madam. Matters of importance are in play and I will not have you interfering with them."

Marge scowled, not liking her moments of vengeance interfered with. "That woman-"

"-will be left alone," Kingson said with a finality that even made Marge take notice and back down. "No harm will become her. To do so would undermine everything I have fought for. Am I clear, madam?"

Begrudgingly, she nodded her assent, though she was clearly unhappy with it. And after another moment, she found her seat.

Kingson turned, and gave those at the table a brief nod. "Now, Mr, Dumbledore, what can you tell me about squibs?" he asked again.

The old man gave a tired sigh. "I'm afraid I'm not sure what type of answer you are looking for. Do you wish to know what genders most squibs are found to be? That would be male. Do you wish to know the average lifespan of a squib? I believe it is around seventy. If you wish to know which families tend to develop squib offspring; that I cannot tell because I do not know. Families tend to keep that kind of thing quiet, for the most part."

Kingson held his hand up for the old wizard to stop, which Albus did. "I could watch you talk circles for ages and probably never come close to what I am angling for, so let me just go about my way of telling it. Squibs are the enduring title placed upon those that have been born with what many have perceived to be an unforeseen handicap. This has been happening for hundreds of years, and is becoming more and more common." He stood up, and moved so that he could pace on his side of the table while talking.

"Squibs," he continued, "were considered a blemish on a family line. Then when their numbers became more numerous in births among purebloods, they were thought more as a blight." He paused to sip from the cup he carried. "Purebloods feared what was happening, seeing it as a stranglehold on their families. Some even thought a curse had been cast upon their family lines."

"Hem, hem," began Delores. "I have acquaintances who have long studied squibs. They are of the conclusion that muggles have found a way to steal the magic of pureblood children in order to make their own children magical, thus giving the wizarding world an influx of muggle-borns that are attempting to supplant purebloods and take control from within."

"That's crap," stated the squib redhead at the table. "That's just a myth built up by the Portuguese wizarding community two hundred years ago to cover up the fact that many of their 'fine noble' families were producing weaker and weaker generations of wizards. What they didn't tell people was that the patriarchs of the family had begun to take the two weakest of their children and force the magical core of one child into the other, leaving one child a squib or dead, but the other child would be magically stronger or also possibly dead. Unfortunately, they didn't realize until decades later that their successful products tended to be become more and more mentally and magically unbalanced. And any children they produced were always squibs. It was during this research that I pieced together why so many squibs were being born to certain families. It almost always had to do with multiple accounts of inbreeding in a family line. Other results of inbreeded can be physical defects or lower intelligence, as well as weaker magic."

"It is true that some defects can pop up when trying to breed for certain traits," Marge volunteered, glad that she had an actual spot to contribute. "As a dog breeder, you have to watch for-"

"Are you comparing wizards and witches to dogs?" Umbridge exclaimed in outrage.

"Perhaps," drolled Snape, "you'd prefer they compared us to cats?"

"Enough," said the redhead. "The evidence is clear. Squibs are actually the result of serial inbreeding among purebloods. Simply put, the Wizarding world needs more biodiversity. Whether that is through gaining spouses from other nations, or from muggle-borns, if you truly want to stop squibs from being produced, these are the measures to take."

Delores sniffed in disdain. "I refuses to accept such an obviously flawed mundane response for a clearly magical problem that you are not fit to determine."

The redhead just smiled. "And that is why your line will die out. You are too stubborn for your own good. Not that anyone will miss you in particular. But, even so, I have all the documentation, if you wish to have your '_acquaintances_' examine it. Your Unspeakables have already confirmed most of it. In fact, they are just now coming to terms with the undeniable evidence that some of the muggleborn children being discovered, are actually descended from squibs three or ten generations back."

Kingson patted the redhead on the shoulder. "Prewett here is one of our experts and in charge of records. He has accomplished more in gathering intel dealing with what is known about squibs than any other organization on the planet."

"Prewett?" Percy finally spoke, coming out of his daze. Of those at the table, Percy Weasley's condition had been the most unstable upon capture. Most of that was due to the number of magic-draining paintgun pellets he'd been hit with when Umbridge had used him as a human shield to fire behind. Still, upon capture, the squibs had been able to put enough magic back into the young wizard to keep him from becoming a permanent squib. If it wasn't for the fact that they wanted to have as many Ministry officials at this meeting, Percy would have been confined to a cot and be under constant medical treatment.

"Yes," responded the older redhead. "Terence Prewett. I'm a cousin of your mother's. Met her once at a family gathering when we were younger. She proved to be very loud. Prone to be temperamental at the slightest problem."

Percy blinked. "Thought you were an accountant."

Terence chuckled. "I'm that, too. I'm a man known for my efficiency and organizational skills. Rather like yourself, I hear. It's a Prewett trait. Those in the family either mastered themselves and became highly organized, or they let their fiery emotions led them about wherever it took them."

Percy shook his head and groaned as a result. "I've… never heard that."

The man snorted. "There's a lot of things I'm sure your mother never told you. You probably never heard of Sabastian Prewett in the 16th century being among the inner circle of a dark lord at the time. The idiot was so stupid that he led an attack against Gringotts and was wiped out. The Prewett family suffered severe financial penalties for the attack, which resulted in the beginning of the loss of the family fortune."

Percy tried to wrap his brain around this newly revealed family history. He didn't want to believe it, but why would the man lie about such a thing. "How do you know all this?"

"Because he looks into everything," answered Kingson, as he began to regain control of the conversation in the room. "And he is incredible thorough. But tell me, Mr. Weasley, what can you tell me about Argus Filch."

"Filch?" Percy said confused.

"Yes, the caretaker here at Hogwarts. What can you tell me about him? You lived here seven years. You should be somewhat familiar with the man."

"Well, yes, in passing," admitted Percy. "Mostly he was a crotchety old man who was constantly grumbling and threatening kids. I wasn't one to get into trouble, so I've never had to spend time with him."

Kingson nodded. He looked to Dumbledore, but the old wizard seemed to be resolved to listen at this point. Probably to see how well the squibs information was. "Filch descended from an old minor family. While the Filches were not wealthy, they were steadfast purebloods. So much so that when the family began to produce a number of squibs, they began to close themselves off from society and hide any pregnancies. They would wait until their children turned eleven. If they turned out to be squibs, the patriarch of the family would kill them."

"That's illegal!" Percy protested.

"And yet that still happens in some families today," Kingson continued. "Filch watched as his elder sister was put to death, when he was just nine years old. He waited a year, trying everything he could to bring on a show of accidental magic. Sometimes injuring himself in the attempts. Finally, he came to accept he was a squib, and fearing for his life, he fled to Hogwarts and pleaded for sanctuary. The castle accepted."

"The castle accepted?" asked McGonagall. "Not Headmaster Dippet?"

"The magic of the castle itself accepted Filch's request for sanctuary," Samuel reiterated. "Dippet, though not a pureblood purist, still had little love for squibs. He did assign Filch with caretaker duties when Filch was old enough. Filch had little choice but to accept. He took to his new tasks well, and was even allowed to inflict punishments on troublemakers, including hanging students by chains. Thus, giving him a feeling of revenge on those that would think so little of him. Such tactics were allowed to continue until Dumbledore took over as headmaster."

Albus nodded weakly. "I found that corporal punishment was not as good at teaching students to mend their ways as was some simple hard work like scrubbing loos or cleaning up after some of the animals in stalls."

"What does all this have to do with events here today?" Umbridge asked in annoyance. To her surprise, Marge Dursley nodded in agreement with her in wanting to hear more about that.

"Quite a bit actually," Kingson continued. "There are many more squibs than the ministry would allow to be believed. A vast majority of them have been thrust out of their homes to try all on their own to make it in the muggle world. Some, like Filch's sister, were exterminated. A few were forced to become slaves to their own families."

He went and placed himself behind Vernon's chair. "By legal writ, this castle is ours. All those inside are here at our discretion. And we will hold them until our demands are met."

"And just what are these demands?" asked Minerva. She felt for the lot of squibs, and had even secretly helped several escape those that would do them harm. But she also cared about her students, and would do everything she could to protect them.

Kingson nodded in appreciation. "Always the sensible one. Yes, the first is probably the most obvious objective: we want the Ministry to quell families from killing squibs."

Albus easily nodded to that condition. As the Leader of the Light, it would be expected of him to take such a stand.

"The second?" Minerva asked, hoping to hurry this along.

"To allow squibs to inherit their Houses they come from if they are the end of the family line."

"Impossible!" Umbridge shouted.

Samuel Kingson held up a hand for her to hear him out. "I have already told you that the descendants of squibs more often than not return to being magical. In fact, I have two grandchildren who have already displayed accidental bouts of magic. Once you confirm that what I am telling you is true, are you really willing to let old families die out. Especially when you how the power to consider their continuation?"

Albus coughed gently before Delores could answer. "I think that is an interesting point that would have to be addressed before the Wizengamot."

Kingson nodded in agreement.

"My next condition is probably more conflicting."

Snape gave out a snort of disdain. "I have no doubt."

"We wish for the children of squibs, and possibly the non-magical siblings of muggle-borns, to be allowed to attend Hogwarts."

Snape, Umbridge, and even Percy began shouting that idea down.

When it did quiet down, Minerva was the one to speak. "How would squibs or muggles be able to take classes? They can't even use a wand!"

He nodded. "True, wands would be pointless, but the majority of classes do not even use magic. For example, potions would be equivalent to a science lab or a cooking class." He stopped to smirk at Severus. "I, myself, a proven squib, have already gained a mastery in it."

"Impossible!" roared Snape, trying to rise up, despite the shackles.

Kingson grinned. "I use an alias when I sell my wares. You have probably heard of the name Tibioun Rose."

Shock flashed across Snape's features. "I played a potions challenge against Tibioun Rose."

"That's right. Seven years ago. The key ingredients were boomslang skins, narwhale horns, and platypus eggshells."

Both men stared at the other as they remembered the various concoctions that had brought about through the mail-owl challenge.

Delores still shook her head in disgust. "What other impossible things will you ask for, hmm? Will you want squibs to also teach at Hogwarts? That we allow them to sit of the school board? Or something even more outrageous, like taking seats on the Wizengamot?"

"Actually," Samuel grinned, "we-"

The ghost flew in through the wall in a panic. "We have a situation of catastrophic development!" called out the ghost known by most as Nearly Headless Nick.

"We are addressing the matter," McGonagall explained.

"I'm not talking about the squibs!" Nick wailed again frantically. "The abomination has escaped!"

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_**AUTHOR's**____**NoTeS**__**: **___

_**Okay, I wanted to get this out New Year's Eve, but I guess New Year's Day will have to do.**_

_**Yes, I killed the Yule Ball band. Sorry. I blame Crouch.**_

_**The students are being held captive, but are not being mistreated much.**_

_**The reason for the squibs invading is revealed. But is Marge going to go along with the squibs demands. I think she has a few of her own.**_

_**And then there is the abomination that the ghosts had been guarding that was recently released thanks to Marcus Flint. **_

_**Balls are in play. Join me again later to see how they turn out.**_

_**Happy New Year! And good luck to all you writers out there!**_


	27. Chapter 27

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 27**

By Ordinaryguy2

Sirius Black groaned weakly as he attempted the insurmountable feat of opening his eyes.

He failed.

"Easy now," said a voice. "Here. Drink this."

With a great deal of effort, Sirius opened his mouth to allow a trickle of cool water to flow down his throat. He was given a second sip, and then a third before the person took the cup away and wiped his mouth.

He gave another try at opening his eyes and was given a view masked in blurriness. He managed to blink a few times, which helped clear up his vision immensely.

Leaning over him slightly was a young, pretty woman with long curly hair.

"Oh, please say we had a good night together," Sirius managed to say.

The young woman blushed immediately. "I wouldn't call tonight a '_good_' night by any means. Besides, you are not only too old for me, you are in no condition to prove otherwise."

Sirius liked her quick, spirited comeback, and was about to give a flirty comeback of his own when he realized she was wearing the robes of a Hogwarts student with a prefect's badge. "Oh damn. You're a student, aren't you?"

"Last time I checked. My name is Penelope Clearwater," she said, with a trace of a smirk.

The name clicked in his head somewhere as he recognized it as a name brought up on occasion by Harry or Hermione. "What's happening here?" He turned his head to see several students gloomily sitting along the floor of the Great Hall.

"You don't remember?" she said with some surprise. "Harry's uncle made a speech, then there was an attack."

Things began to click into place in his head, and he wasn't liking the picture it presented. "I charged that tub of lard Vernon, and he pulled out a muggle weapon."

"A gun," she added. "He shot you twice. You nearly died. Fortunately, once our captors had us secure, they allowed Pomfrey and I to treat you. If they hadn't let us aid you, and we were having this conversation, you'd be a new ghost to haunt the castle."

Sirius winced, and the pain from where the bullets had torn through his body made itself known. "Not ready to leave this world just yet, and I don't wish to be a ghost either."

"Strong man. Good, you vill need strength," came a deep voice with a foreign accent.

The injured man was able to raise his head up enough to look over and see the Bulgarian friend of Harry's, Viktor Krum, who had his wrists bound with magical inhibiting cuffs on his hands as well as a large metal ball that had a chain that were shackled to each of his legs.

"They think highly of you," Black stated flatly.

Viktor turned his grinning face to the older man. The Bulgarian Seeker's face showed one black eye that looked like it was almost two black eyes. He was also missing a front tooth. It reminded Sirius of the time Remus had taken him, James and Pettigrew to see a football game in Ireland. The players were raising pints of beer in the pubs after the game, as long as they could still walk. The more battered and bruised the player, the more praise and beer they seemed to be given.

"You've had some fun," Sirius said pointedly.

Viktor chuckled and nodded. "Good fight. No one die, and most injured treated quickly. Even losers. Respectable vinners for doing dat."

Padfoot had to take a moment for that to sink into his brain. This was not the typical actions of a terrorist group, which is what he was used to during the time he was an auror. For the attackers to take such care of their hostages meant there had to be something else they hoped to gain from those actions.

"Harry?" he asked about his godson.

Penelope pointed down the group of students against the wall. "He's safe. They have him somewhere down on that end of the wall. I don't know if it was purposeful or if they just wanted those in more medical need to be over here. Last I saw, he was unconscious, but uninjured."

Sirius looked around and noted that most of the students and teachers laying around him were bandaged up or unconscious. Harry's godfather hoped that meant that Harry was in better condition that those in his vicinity.

"Have they said anything?" Black groaned as he tried to sit up, and instead laid right back where he was, sorer for the attempt.

"Not really." Penelope adjusted a cushion beneath the wizard's head. "But we have heard bits of what the guards have said."

Krum nodded. "Day take headmaster, two teachers, and two of your ministry people to other room for… talk."

"A conference," Penelope corrected.

That made some sense to Sirius. "So has there been any talk to indicate if this is an attack from another country? Or is this a coup in the Ministry?"

Viktor gave out a laugh which almost stopped one of the guards as they walked by. "Is squibs," the Bulgarian said in explanation.

"Squibs?" The animagus looked at him in confusion.

"The people who attacked us," Penelope interjected. "They are evidently all squibs."

Sirius looked at them blankly. Finally he asked, "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"It's true," she insisted. "From what I overheard from the guards, this is some type of '_Squib Rights_' movement."

Sirius looked at her critically. "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

Sirius let out a pained breath as he tried to prop himself up more. Penelope quickly adjusted some pillows behind him so that he could be in a more upright position.

"That hurts," he grumbled as he reached up a tentative hand to one of the places where he'd been shot.

"Don't do that," the young woman commanded, even as she grabbed ahold of his hand to keep him from touching the wounded area. "Our attackers had used some type of magic reducing gels and foam to overcome us. Due to Harry being right next to you when they got him, you had received a few splashed from it, causing your magic to be reduced some as well. Fortunately, you still had some magic, and the healing potions were able to work. But they still were not at full strength, so you are going to be experiencing some pain until we can get your magical core back to a strong enough level that potions will have a more thorough effect. Also, you can't move as much as you might do some internal damage without meaning to."

Sirius glanced at her critically. "Are you apprenticing with Madam Pomfrey?"

She blushed. "Unofficially, I suppose. But Poppy did confirm my diagnosis when she was allowed to check on you."

He nodded. The very fact that the student felt comfortable enough to use the nickname that the adults used when talking to the medical witch, meant that she was quite familiar with her.

From his more upright position, he could now see their guards. Some were evidently station at areas, while others were to patrol the group of student lined up against the wall. They seemed to function with almost military precision that told him that they had at least practiced to do this for quite a bit. The squib guards seemed to be schooling their faces to hide their emotions, but Sirius could pick out a few. There was an older guard that seemed to have less rank who, while he didn't outright hate the captured students, he disliked them a lot. There was a middle-aged man and woman who gave him the impression that they were married. Both seemed conflicted with what was going on, but resigned to the outcome. At one of the stations nearest them, was a young woman who seemed ready to bolt if things got any worse than they were. Whether it as fear about the repercussions of being a part of this, or just scared of being here at Hogwarts the animagus couldn't be certain.

"Wish I had more time to study them," Sirius grunted. He'd learned early in Azkaban to learn the habits and personalities of the guards. Some were quick about their patrols, wanting to get as far from the prisoners and dementors in order to get back to the guards barracks so they could get near to a fire and have a bite of chocolate. Others though, could be somewhat sadistic. Possibly for some wrong that an inmate had done to the guard's family and friends. Or maybe having to walk up and down the halls of Azkaban had made them take a turn for the worst, so they took it out on the prisoners. Either way, you didn't want to attract the guards' attention unless you really needed to.

Any other thoughts that Sirius might have had had to be set aside, because a man that looked a lot like Snape walked hurriedly into the Great Hall, followed by an ashen faced Minerva McGonagall, and a redheaded man who was helping her to walk.

"As I've said earlier," the man resembling Snape said to the line of students huddled against the wall, "My name is Samuel Kingson."

The students were silent except for a few who were crying softly in the background.

"It has never been our intention to harm anyone. You are all just a means to establish our denied rights."

"My godfather was shot!" shouted out a voice from the far end.

Kingson turned to face where Harry Potter laid reclining, meeting the teen's accusatory glare. "That should never have happened." Kingson kept his face void of emotions. "There were limited muggle arms brought to the castle despite the fact that we could have come armed to the teeth if we had wanted. The particular weapon that was fired at your godfather wasn't supposed to be included on this venture. Or for that matter, your uncle wasn't even supposed to be armed."

Kingson turned to the doorway as Marge Dursley came in haughtily, as if she owned the castle. At this point, Kingson let a frown appear on his face. "The matter will be looked into, and dealt with, Lord Slytherin. That I assure you and Lord Black."

Marge shot Kingson a scathing look, then sniffed with disdain. Vernon walked up with a more obvious daze on his face, stopping dutifully just behind his sister.

"Vernon," Marge said in a cold manner. "I am beginning to question our alignment with these squibs."

Kingson rolled his eyes at her mannerisms. "Madam, we have graver things to concern ourselves with."

She grit her teeth. "Is that some kind of humorous reference to that show you put on about getting a warning from a ghost that I couldn't see or hearZ? I will not be conned out of what my brother has coming to him!"

As she continued to rant, she was oblivious to the ghost of Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington gliding up from behind and through her. She paused only for a moment to complain about the draftiness of the castle (she was unable to see the ghost), and then began another rant, stopping as Ripper raced into the room chasing after Argus Filch who was high stepping it ahead with the feline Mrs. Norris held up above his head to keep her away from the vicious, old dog.

"Please, we must hurry!" Nearly Headless Nick cried out in a panic. "Who knows what that abomination is doing at this moment, or even where?!"

"Calm yourself," Minerva called to the ghost, her face almost as gray as that of Nick's. "That abomination will be dealt with expediently, Nicholas."

Marge growled at what she perceived to be more theatrics meant to trick her. "There's nothing there!" she shouted, her flailing arm going through Nick's chest, causing her to suddenly pull it back to herself in surprise.

"Marge Dursley," Kingson stepped forward. "You should know by now that there is more about here than your senses can take in. We need to deal with this matter quickly, as all of us in the castle are currently in mortal peril."

A growing mummer built up among the prisoners and guards. Ripper chased Filch who was holding Mrs. Norris out of the Great Hall, and decided to follow after then in her annoyance. The noise in the Hall only came to a stop when the redhead man supporting McGonagall blew out a shrill whistle.

McGonagall tried to say something, but found herself too weak to speak loudly. Terence Prewett held up a megaphone for her to speak into. She was a little surprised at first, but understood the basic mechanics of the device. "I hope you can all hear me. First, I wish to say that I have learned that the reason for the interruption of tonight's events was evidently supposed to force through certain social protocols regarding squibs that I believe were rather long overdue. Not that I condone this violet play of force here tonight. But, nevertheless, while being schooled on the matter out there, Sir de Mimsy-Porpington came to warn us of a new threat. A threat that-"

The old witch began to falter. A squib guard hurriedly brought a chair for her to sit.

"Perhaps Sir de Mimsy-Porpington will tell us the rest himself?" Terence Prewett requested, send a glance at the ghost.

Nearly Headless Nick was only slightly startled by this, as he was already at almost a full panic. The ghost took in an unnecessary resigned sigh as he floated up an extra couple of feet so that others could see him. "The abomination made an appearance in Hogwarts almost two years ago near the end of the school year as it raced through the castle. We, the ghosts of Hogwarts, were unsure of what it was exactly, only that it was unlike any specter we had ever encountered. Members of the Headless Hunt were among the first to encounter it during a patrol. They gave chase immediately. The abominable spirit was not amused, and attacked, devouring two members of the Headless Hunt and their pooka steeds. The rest of the Headless Hunt, seeing themselves powerless against the abominable one, fled for safety. The abomination seemed strengthened after absorbing ghosts, and began stalking others of my kind. The Headless Hunt gathered together with the Bloody Baron, myself, and other ghosts who had combat experience. After a second encounter with the abomination, we lost several fellow ghosts and learned that we could not overpower it. Fortunately, the Fat Friar and the Grey Lady had been able to design a rune trap for it in one of the abandoned rooms in the dungeon. Fortunately for all, the trap worked. Since that time, the ghosts of Hogwarts have kept a guard over the abominable one in order to keep it secure. And it was so until tonight, when someone overtook tonight's guard, Cuthbert Binns, and freed the abomination!"

Several people began speaking at once. Some out of fear, others out of confusion. Most talked to those closest to them, others were trying to talk over them to friends and family that were further away. Even the guards were agitatedly breaking protocol as they began to cluster together.

Draco retreated into himself in reflection, hoping that the venture that he had sent Marcus Flint on to discover what the ghosts were guarding would not be traced back to him. He was kind of glad that the squibs had something to distract them, and hoped that he could use it to get free so that he could escape to Malfoy Manor. His parents were hosting a huge ball with only the best of the Wizarding World in attendance. Once there, Draco could let everyone know what these upstart squibs were doing. A force of aurors and hit-wizards could be sent out to take back Hogwarts. Draco, himself, would probably be awarded an Order of Merlin medal for his part in the rescue.

He let out a heavy sigh. And while plans of escape and rescue parties sounded great, he first had to find a way to escape. True, he had sent Myrtle to get help, but he couldn't really count on that if there was a ghost-eating thing out there. No, he was going to have to risk escaping himself to get things done. He only hoped that this abomination thing didn't also eat the souls out of living people, too.

Samuel Kingson nodded to a guard who then shot his rifle in the air twice to quiet everyone down.

Before he could say anything, a feminine voice spoke out. "Sir Nicholas! What day did the ghosts of Hogwarts first encounter this abomination?"

The nearly headless flustered for a moment. Then spoke out clearly, "It was upon the evening that Ms. Weasley was taken down into the Chamber of Secrets."

There was a commotion in a section of the student hostages where Ginny Weasley fainted dead away.

Hermione and Harry shared a worrisome look. Both came to the same conclusion. Hermione was the one to find her voice first as she spoke quietly to Harry.

"Th-that shade was in the diary you destroyed!"

"Bloody hell!" murmured Harry, though his girlfriend didn't react to his cursing. "I thought that it had just dissipated away. It… must have fled through the castle as it was falling apart where it ran into the ghosts and made dinner of them."

Hermione made a gasping sound. "You said it told you it was devouring Ginny's soul in order to come alive. Maybe eating the ghosts it encountered gave it enough strength to exist without the diary it had been housed inside."

Harry shivered even as Hermione pulled him into a hug. "That means the ghost-eating abomination that the ghosts were guarding was the ghost of Voldemort."

Later, the two teens would reflect back on that moment, as an excellent example as to take into account one's surrounding when quietly discussing information of a more explosive nature between the two of them.

Lavender Brown, sitting nearby next to Harry's cousin, Dudley, was high among the gossip queens at Hogwarts only partially due to getting others to impart things to her. Her key skill, however, was eavesdropping thanks to a pair of charmed earrings from a beloved cousin that would allow her focus her hearing where she wanted it.

Therefore, Harry and Hermione were completely surprised as everyone else when Lavender leaped to her feet and screamed at them, "The abomination is the ghost of You-Know-Who?!"

Naturally pandemonium ensued inside the Great Hall.

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_**AUTHOR's**____**NoTeS**__**: **___

_Sorry for the delay in writing this and the fact that it is short than most of my chapters. Lot of life things going on. That and reading other people's fanfiction stories. I'm not just a writer, I'm also a reader. I'd like to recommend the story __**Harry Potter And The Prince Of Slytherin**__ by The Sinister Man. Talk about an incredible story. And his take on Lockhart was brilliant and totally original. Lockhart is quirky, but also brilliant and competent. Very well worth your time to check it out._

_So now in my story, the thing that I've been referring to as the abomination for several chapters now is actually the sliver of Tom Riddle's soul from the diary in __Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets__. That is my big reveal this time. Did anyone guess that? I don't think I've read anyone using that angle before. But it makes a kind of sense that if the horcrux in the diary was consuming Ginny's soul in order to become alive and whole, then couldn't the horcrux also consume the ghosts that haunted the castle? It wouldn't have the exact same affect since the ghosts are already dead, but it would probably be enough sustenance for it to go on existing at Hogwarts, right? What are your thoughts on the matter? Let me hear your ideas!_


	28. Chapter 28

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 28**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

**Hogwarts**

On the fourth floor, the young ghost Myrtle was having a frustrating conversation with several of the portraits on the wall.

"But I don't see why you can't communicate with the portraits in the Headmaster's office?" Myrtle said, sounding more and more perplexed.

An older aristocratic man wearing a great deal of purple ran a wet finger over the rim of his glass of wine, causing it to give off an unusual resonating sound. "We are forbidden to go into any of the portraits in the Headmaster's office, young lady."

Myrtle pouted. "That's… disappointing."

"True," said a middle-aged blonde woman in a portrait with a library setting. "If it was later in the week, that is when one of the former headmasters comes down to visit me and my books." If her smile was any indicator, Myrtle would guess that the woman's guest mostly came to see her, and not her many books.

Myrtle looked up in hope. "Do you know of any of the other former headmasters or headmistresses that might be out and about in the castle proper right now?"

All of the portraits shook their heads, including one of a young toddler playing with a stick in a pool.

The young ghost stuck her lip out. She had promised Draco that she would try and get word out to anyone that could come aid them from the attacking squibs. Her first idea was to get one of the portraits of the old headmasters and headmistresses to use any other portrait connections they had to get word of the danger at Hogwarts to someone in the Ministry. Her second idea wasn't possible since she didn't have physical form to send an owl carried message to anyone. Likewise, she couldn't use a floo since she couldn't touch the floo powder or even gain access to any areas that had fireplaces, due to the vigilant protections to keep Peeves away from any active fireplaces.

Another portrait had been speaking as Myrtle reflected on her situation. He was an older gentleman in a light blue dress robe with reddish hair that was almost equally covered in white. "-since even the castle's house-elves are bound by the commands of the squib Kingson."

A thought suddenly crossed Myrtle's mind. She wasn't sure how plausible it was, but she didn't think that it could hurt to try. "Excuse me," she said to the portraits so as to not appear rude to them.

Floating to the center of the hall, she spoke with a loud, clear voice. "I need to talk with a Malfoy house-elf!" After a moment she added, "Please."

There was an abrupt popping sound and there stood a fearful house-elf wearing several pieces of stained doilies that had been stitched together. The house-elf was hunched over as it scanned the area before locking it's bulbous eyes on Myrtle. "Did dead girl be calling for a Malfoy house-elf?"

Myrtle gave an excited twirl in the air. Her idea worked! Draco would be so proud of her!

She floated down so that she was almost eye-to-eye with the house-elf. "I have a message that needs to be delivered most urgently!"

"Family house-elves is not to be coming to Hogwarties. Against rules," the house-elf blurted out becoming more and more nervous. "Bouty should be going. Still many things to do for ball at Bouty's family's manor."

"Draco and the other students are in extreme danger!" Myrtle blurted out before the house-elf could pop away.

Bouty brought his hands up to his mouth in fright. "Young master is in danger!"

"All the students are!" she went on. "Even the teachers! The headmaster was already taken down before I was sent by Draco to get help!"

"How does Bouty know that dead girl is telling true words?"

She blinked in surprise at that. Fortunately, she only had to give it a moment of thought. "You should be able to tell that the wards of the castle have been given to someone else."

The house-elf let his magic reach out to the castle to confirm what Myrtle was telling him. Once he did, he let out a gasp. "What is dead girl's message?" the servant asked in desperation.

"Hogwarts has been taken over by squibs who are using magic removing weapons! Potter's muggle uncle has somehow claimed authority over the castle! It has something to do with his wife being a descendant of Ravenclaw and his nephew being named the new Lord of Slytherin! Everything and everyone serving the castle must obey this Dursley! Please, you have to save us!"

Bouty nodded so fast it looked like his ears were trying to take flight. "Bouty go! Bouty tell master right away!" Then he popped away.

Myrtle wrung her hands fretfully as she tried to determine what she should do next.

¯`•.¸¸.•´¯

**MALFOY MANOR**

"The Norwegian Minister laughed so hard that he dropped his lutefisk down the front of his wife's dress!"

Lucius gave a polite chuckle to Cornelius's story as he looked over the room to see if all of his guests had arrived. There was always a few that choose to come fashionably late, sometime competing to be the last to arrive. To circumvent this trend, his wife had taken to politely expressing her view at several social gatherings that when people arrive very late to a social gathering that it is rude and no longer fashionable. That now had several people in high society trying to determine at what point that they can arrive at to still be fashionably late but not insult their hosts or other guests. About half an hour after the start of the ball showed a sudden huge influx of guests that amused him, but caused his wife to scowl slightly at the sight of her guests tripping over each other as they arrived one after the other, and sometimes five at once. That last bit had been a combination of the Parkinsons, Diggorys and Horace Slughorn. His wife was sure to have words with him later about him laughing at the situation, much to his regret.

He saw his wife, Narcissa, was currently having a conversation with Chlamydia Blishwick. Hopefully it wasn't another attempt by Chlamydia to encourage them to sign a betrothal agreement so that her daughter, Syphylias, a Second-year at Hogwarts, could marry Draco when she came of age. It was bad enough that he had dated Chlamydia back when they were students at Hogwarts. That is until he needed to get treated in the hospital wing at Hogwarts for a certain itching, burning sensation. He let out an internal groan since he knew he'd hear all about it from his wife after the party.

Still, he considered himself fortunate that his wife was talking to him. Ever since that fiasco when Potter had the remains of the basilisk brought up from the Chamber of Secrets, she had been hexing him on sight for insisting that Draco stay at school during the attacks. He'd been able to finally coax her to be civil when he explained that he didn't know that the creature petrifying students was a basilisk. It didn't help matters that he also mentioned that he thought that whatever was happening would only affect the mudbloods. Fortunately, with the holidays coming, and the annual ball to organize, he had been forgiven, or possibly been given a reprieve.

He had just noticed an escalating argument between Walden Macnair and Thorfinn Rowle when an unexpected popping noise announced a house-elf right beside him.

"Master! Grave news! Very gravey in the news I be having!" Bouty wailed to his master.

He looked down at Bouty with a bit of annoyance and disgust. He had taught his house-elves to not be seen during social events unless called for or there was an emergency. And since the house-elf had announced it as being bad news, he knew it must be important. If it turned out otherwise, Bouty would be trimming his ears with a hedge trimmer later that evening.

"Sounds important," Cornelius commented before taking a sip of his wineglass filled with a 75 year old scotch he had grown particularly fond of when visiting the Malfoys.

Lucius nodded to the Minister. "Pardon me, Cornelius. I should take a moment for some privacy to hear what this is all about."

"By all mean," Cornelius said as he sampled an olive. "Let me know if there is anything I can do."

Lucius nodded his thanks, before moving across the room to the hall so that he could go to his study, with the wretched Bouty following obediently behind him.

He was halfway across the room when he noticed that his wife was moving to join him. He silently prayed that nothing had happened to Draco. He didn't think his testicles could stand another cursing from his wife.

¯`•.¸¸.•´¯

**THE GREAT HALL**

Due to the announcement of the abomination being the ghost of Voldemort, the Hall had been pandemonium. Once things had calmed down, Kingson ordered his guards to leave the Great Hall so that the teachers and students could conduct a brief meeting to determine what actions they would like to take.

Petunia Dursley had been brought in for a room outside the hall where she had been kept separate from everyone else. Upon seeing her husband, she began cursing at him and even made to physically attack him only to be stopped by some of the squib guards.

It was a tossup for Harry as to which sight confused him more. The guards looking sympathetic toward his aunt. The anger his aunt was directing at his uncle. Or the look of bewilderment on his uncle's dull face.

"He's clearly been doused with some kind of potion to control him," Harry heard Hermione say quietly.

Dudley, who was sitting just before them turned to them abruptly. "Are you sure?" he asked hopefully.

"The signs are all there," she said compassionately. "Unfortunately, that doesn't really help us right now."

The squib guards continued to pull Petunia into the Great Hall despite her weak struggles. It was only when she saw Dudley that she changed her direction, and the guards let her go the rest of the way on her own.

Dudley had had to catch her as she threw herself at him where he was sitting Indian style on the floor. Even then he'd almost fell backwards.

"I didn't know! I didn't know!" she continued to sob onto his shoulder.

Dudley looked scared, having never seen his mother like this before. With just a bit of instinct, he held her and patted her back. Lavender helped by gently combed Petunia's hair with her hand and giving Dudley a reassuring look, despite the wetness in her own eyes.

With tear-filled eyes, Petunia looked up from her son's shoulder directly into her nephew's eyes. "I didn't know, Harry," she managed to say between sobs. "I swear I didn't know he was going to-to claim everything like that. I didn't even know that he could."

Harry was grimacing slightly, but nodded. He was still feeling exhausted due to having been drained of the vast majority of his magic. Also, the many bruises that had been caused by his aunt Marge shooting him with paintgun pellets while standing right over him stung horribly, even more so when he moved. While Hermione had been able to pour some of her magic into him, she had been unable to do much for his bruises. The magic inhibiting cuffs not only blocked him from accessing magic, but it also slowed down the magic that would refill his core. He'd been fortunate that Hermione had been able to push some of her magic into him so that his magic core was filling at a faster rate, making him less tired than he would have been normally.

"It's… okay," he found himself saying. "We'll figure out what is going on and fix it. We just have to deal with this '_abomination_' thing first."

"Abomination?" Petunia wiped her tears with a handkerchief thoughtfully provided by Lavender.

Before anyone could explain the matter to Petunia, they were interrupted by a loud voice through the Great Hall.

"How is this supposed to… Oh, I see." Professor McGonagall, now sitting in a chair, looked over the megaphone she was holding in wonder. "And are you sure this is a muggle item? They really should cover things like this in the Muggle Studies classes."

One of the guards explained a few more things about the megaphone before turning to leave. McGonagall nodded tiredly as the last of the squibs left the Great Hall. When the doors closed, murmuring rose from the bound and cowed students, rising to a level that made it hard for the deputy headmistress to be heard, even with a megaphone.

"Enough!" Hermione shouted after casting a wandless _Sonorous_ charm on herself. "If we are to determine anything as a group, we need to allow Professor McGonagall to be heard and lead us through the decision making process! We are all scared, tired and sore, so we just have to deal with it if we want things to improve soon. So listen up already!"

Hermione locked eyes with McGonagall, and nodded for her to go on.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. Remind me it award you some house points when this is over."

The older witch leaned back tiredly in her chair, and took in a calming breath. "The facts that we currently know about this abomination are this. Somehow, after Mr. Potter destroyed the shade of Voldemort two years ago in the infamous Chamber of Secrets-"

"It said it was the memory of Tom Riddle," Harry spoke up loudly. "That's Voldemort's real name back when he was a student here."

McGonagall nodded tiredly, wincing slightly at the mention of You-Know-Who's real name. She could see the panic building in the eyes of her many charges, and decided she needed to go on with what she was saying. "Regardless, we do know it is some aspect of the Dark Lord. We also know that it has the ability to consume ghosts, and is growing more powerful."

"Can't we leave?" called out an unknown student that was farther back. "Will the squibs let us go if we are in such a dire threat?"

McGonagall looked down wearily at her megaphone before raising it again. "I'm afraid not. We are their best bargaining chip to getting fairer rights for squibs. Even now, they are unwilling to let us slip away from them. They have tried to assure me that they are doing everything they can to make sure that You-Know-Who's ghost will not get to us."

"How can you expect us to trust the word of a squib?" Draco practically leapt to his feet. "Especially after this stunt they pulled here tonight?"

Minerva nodded, too tired to reprehend him at the moment. "I understand. I have my own reservations about helping them to. However, You-Know-How, or at least a ghost monster version of him, I believe is the bigger threat to all of us here today. That being the case, Kingson has agreed to immediately release all of the First and Second Year students if some of us will help the squibs defeat this thing."

Murmurs again filled the Great Hall, and this time McGonagall let them have some time to talk amongst themselves.

Harry managed to get to his feet with Hermione's help. Dudley helped by holding his mother, who had started to weep quietly. He took a moment to look down the line of students who were spread down the wall that the squibs had placed them at. He saw his godfather down on the far end. Sirius managed a weak wave but looked to pale and weak to do much of anything. Most of the other students, including those from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, still seemed jittery and in shock. It didn't help most were also suffering from magic deficiency due to having most of their magic sucked out of their bodies. There were a few, like Madam Pomfrey and Penelope Clearwater, who were managing to use what strength they had to help others. He also caught Draco's eye, and was surprised to see that that he, like Hermione, had managed to escape having their magic drained. Harry wasn't sure if anyone else had been able to do so, but it did raise his hopes.

"What is this Kingson's word worth?" he asked, directing his question to McGonagall.

"Worth?" Draco practically yelled from where he'd been sitting. "He's a filthy squib! How can you even think his word is worth anything?" Several students, not just Slytherins, raised their voices in agreement.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked at Draco. "So you're saying a squib's word is as valid as that of a Malfoy?"

There was a collective gasp in the Great Hall. So much so that Neville would have sworn that the air pressure had changed. Luna would later tell him that it did, so much so that a majority of the Wrackspurts that had initially fled the Great Hall during the squib attack, had been sucked back into the room.

"Enough! We have enough to worry about without you two butting heads with each other as if you were young goats!" McGonagall's voice with it strong Scottish undertones cut through the tension, but did not remove it from the room. "We do not have time to deal with you petty squabbles with each other! There is literally a monster abroad in the school and most of us are currently defenseless! We need to put our heads together so we can rectify this matter!"

Draco was not about to let the matter rest. "These squibs," began Draco, "came here into our school, captured us, and made demands that – that are ridiculous to the point of being outrageous! How can we just ignore it?" The agreement sounds coming around him was like a balm to Draco's soul. After having been rejected by most of the school for several weeks because of the whole Grim incident down in the Chamber of Secrets, he was regaining the respect due him. All he had to do was place these uppity squibs back under his heels where they belong.

Hermione shook her head in disagreement. "Taking back control over the castle will not let us stop this ghost of- of- Voldemort." She took in a calming breath after saying the Dark Lord's name. A majority of those in the Great Hall still shuddered at the mention of the dreaded name, including Draco. Harry, however, was immune to such frivolities.

Harry stood straighter as he a spoke, purposefully ignoring the magic-inhibiting cuffs he wore. "We need to determine what we need to deal with first, as well as how."

Most people automatically began forming small groups as to determine what course of action should be taken, or if they could take any action at all. Thus very few people witnessed Luna Lovegood stand up.

"Excuse me, Harry Potter. But there is a common saying that I find fitting for right now. It goes '_The enemy of my enemy is my friend_.' Now, I believe what we need to determine today is which of the two enemies is worse. The squibs who are trying to force the means of bettering their lot in life? Or the haunting murderous aspect of the very Dark Lord who nearly decimated the Wizarding World?"

The Great Hall was quiet as they considered Luna's words. True, most felt anger at the squibs for ruining the Yule Ball, as well as embarrassment and fear for having been defeated by them. Many had been raised to despise squibs, so the very thought of raising their elevation in society went against the grain of everything they believed in. (If the squibs were raised higher, then who would fill that lower empty rung?)

As for the specter of He-Who-Should-Not-Be Names, no one wanted to admit that some aspect of him was back. Even with the admission of the fact by Nearly-Headless Nick, many wished to scoff that it was some misunderstanding on the part of the ghost. How could something consume ghosts? It just couldn't be possible. Surely not.

And that was why many were floored when McGonagall awarded Ravenclaw fifty points for Luna providing such sterling wisdom in such a dire moment.

McGonagall spoke into the megaphone which seemed to increase her Scottish accent. "I believe we are not under any immediate threat by Kingson and the squibs; they have shown no sign of lethal intent, and have actually been careful to see that little harm was done to us. They need us safe in order to negotiate with the Ministry." She paused a moment to choose her next words carefully. "This '_abomination_' that Sir Nicholas brings us warning of, we can't ignore the possibility of the threat that such a thing poses to us all. Whatever it is, (and I do hope it is not something relating to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named), it is evidently dangerous. If it can consume ghosts, then it may try to go after our souls as well."

Fear in the Great Hall suddenly climbed to a new high as the students suddenly realized just how defenseless they were now that most of their magic had been drained from them. Several students started to cry out hysterically, and a few even fainted.

"Quiet!" Hermione shouted, her _Sonorous_ charm made her easily heard over the panicking students. "It we are going to come out on top on this, we will need to strive to behave in the manor of the Houses we were put into! Gryffindors, be brave! Be strong for everyone! Slytherins, use your cunning! Find us a way through this! Ravenclaws, use your intellect! Has something like this creature every been heard of before? If so, how do we defeat it? If not, they how can we safely learn about it to get rid of it? Hufflepuffs, you have the hardest task of all! Help us all pull together with your teamwork skills! Students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, we can't do this without you! You come from different school and have knowledge that our school doesn't cover! Help us if you have any idea what this thing is! We all need to work together on this for this to work!"

She paused for breath. And nearly jumped out of her skin when Harry started clapping next to her. McGonagall quickly joined in followed by most everyone in the Great Hall. Hermione would later learn that she had also been awarded fifty points for her rallying speech.

Once the noise subsided, it took everything she had not to fold up into Harry's arms in embarrassment even though her blush was more than a clear enough indicator. Draco and a few others like Cormac McLaggen still looked less than pleased with the thought of everyone pulling together. Even Ron looked skeptically at those others around him that were not from Gryffindor, though Harry was glad that he was keeping quiet about his reservations.

"Very good job, Miss Granger," McGonagall said from her seat. The professor looked as if she had just played half a dozen quidditch matches one after another and was about to drop to her feet. The only thing keeping her in the land of the awake was her sheer will to see her students through these events.

Hermione blushed again at the praise from her favorite teacher. Harry took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. "It's an excellent start," he said. He leaned in close to Hermione and could smell her light perfume.

Minerva gave a small cough to interrupt the two love sick teens. She wished their Yule Ball had not turned out to be such a disaster. "It seems we have all agreed that this ghostly matter is the more crucial matter. I should go let Kingson know our decision."

"Professor," Hermione began. "I know you said that they would release the First and Second Years if we agreed. Even so, see if they will let the Third Years go as well. I'm sure they are expecting us to haggle some so they might already be prepared to do just that. After all, it is still the holidays, and most of the younger years are not even at Hogwarts unless they were a date for the ball."

Petunia looked up from her crying, and quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. "Yes, please. We need to get as many as we can to safety."

Hermione nodded. "I was thinking maybe one or two of the prefects could lead the younger students into Hogsmeade. Probably _The Three Broomsticks_ is open. Madam Rosmerta should be more than happy to welcome them in from the cold. From there they could contact the Ministry and their parents."

Minerva nodded smugly to her prize student. "You are definitely the best of your generation. Anyone saying otherwise is an utter idiot and git." She chuckled softly in her hand. "My, I am so exhausted I find myself unable to carefully watch over my comments." Have said her part, she turned and headed to the main entrance to seek out Kingson.

Hermione stared after her teacher, shocked and pleased by the praise.

Harry grinned and kissed her on her forehead. "I always said you were her favorite."

She smiled sweetly back at him, but then nodded to someone approaching.

"Pardon my intrusion, Lord Slytherin," spoke the ghost of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. "I do thank you for speaking up in favor of the alarm that I brought to this hall. It is rare when ghosts are actually at peril. Even rarer is it when people even concern themselves with the wellbeing of those who continue on even after dying."

"That thing that is part of V-Voldemort-" She stopped to try suppress a shudder. "It is not just a threat to you, Sir Nicolas," Hermione said politely. "Though the ghosts of the castle matter to us, too. In fact, if you wouldn't mind, could you send for the Grey Lady and the Fat Friar. It would very likely help us to know how they trapped the abomination the first time."

Nearly-Headless Nick nodded, his head nearly starting to tumble down before one of his hands managed to brace it in time. "It shall be done, my lady." He then floated slightly to Harry to address him directly. "Lord Slytherin, as much as I wish I did not have to, I will have to relay a report of what I have recently become aware of to Mr. Kingson due to your uncle accepting full guardianship over you. However, I want to report what that is to you first."

Harry and Hermine shared an uneasy look. "And what exactly are you going to report?" Harry asked, steeling his voice, preparing himself for more betrayal.

The apparition of a man raised his arm and pointed to a tapestry on the far wall. "Behind that wall, I sense that several ghosts are beginning to rise."

"So someone died after all," came an unexpected and unwelcome voice.

Draco stood there looking smug, glad to have overheard something. There was also a bit of fear, too, but he was pressing onward regardless. He had come over quietly to try learn whether or not the Gryffindor ghost had learned that he had been the one that had sent someone down during the Yule Ball to learn what the ghosts had been secretly guarding. It was a pleasant bonus to hear that there had been some deaths during the squib attack. Depending on who had died, his father could use this information for political and monetary gain.

Hermione spoke up before Harry could start an argument with the Slytherin. "Draco, we don't know what happened back, so if you know what is good for you, you will not spread wild rumors about."

Draco snorted. "Fine, but I want to see for myself what is beyond that wall. Or I tell everyone right now."

The three began walking towards the tapestry at a slow pace for Harry, with Nearly-Headless Nick following alongside them.

"There was once a corridor there for the kitchen staff to bring the meals," explained Nick. "As I was told after I had become a ghost, that once house-elves had begun being put to use at the castle, the corridor was no longer needed. So it was turned into one of the castle's many secret corridors as people forgot about it."

Draco snorted with disdain. "Mad-Eye knew about it. I saw him abscond out of here during the skirmish behind that tapestry. It's probably him that died in there. So much for the squibs trying not to kill anyone."

Hermione bit her lip in worry, and cast a nervous glance at Harry. Harry, though tired, chose to just keep walking towards the tapestry of five young ladies reading scrolls. Or maybe, it was just the fact that Harry still felt exhausted from having his magic drained. Either way, she would be there to support him.

At the tapestry, Harry held back a corner of it so that could tap the stones that Nick pointed to in the correct pattern.

As the secret entrance swung inwards, the ghost and three students were met with a gruesome sight.

"Dear God!" Hermione clutched at Harry's shoulder. Harry stood and just stared at the bodies that had been cut to pieces and the bloody floor. Harry didn't even say anything when he noticed that Draco was clutching to his other shoulder.

"Merlin's beard," Draco could be heard saying as he released Harry's shoulder and stumbled to his knees.

Harry was breathing through his mouth, not wanting to take in the smell of the blood in the corridor. After a few moments to let the shock ease off, Harry began purposefully taking in what it was that he was seeing. "They are all male adults. Their hair is long and unkempt, but in a stylish fashion. Their clothing is dark leather with worn black robes. I see one severed hand holding a wand; otherwise it looks like they didn't have enough warning to defend themselves. Probably taken completely by surprise."

"How-how can squibs do that?" Draco finally managed to ask. "They're supposed to be weak and pathetic."

"They're a band," Harry went on, purposefully ignoring Draco. "Probably hired by Dumbledore to play here tonight. See, there is part of a guitar, and a bass. And that one is holding bagpipes."

"That's Myron Wagtail! The lead singer for _The Weird Sisters_!" gasped Draco. "These are _The Weird Sisters!_"

"Sisters?" Nick asked as he floated closer to fresh corpses. "They seem to be all male to me."

"It's-" Harry struggled for a moment to find his voice. "It's the name of the band, kay. Um, my favorite wizarding band actually."

"The squibs will pay for this!" Draco muttered, his fear and shock being turned to anger. _The Weird Sisters_ wasn't just Harry's favorite band.

Hermione's voice cut through the tension. "It wasn't the squibs. Look at the cuts. That's spell fire; it's too precise to be anything else."

Draco jumped to his feet and rounded on the witch. "They who-" Then froze as realization sunk into his thick skull as he remembered just who he had seen flee through the secret passageway during the fight with the squibs. "Oh. Bloody. Hell. Mad-Eye has truly gone mad."

Hermione looked to Harry expecting him to try and defend their Defense teacher.

Harry's face, however, looked grim. "I know we don't have all the facts, Hermione. But, right now, it doesn't look good for Mad-Eye."

"Nick?" Hermione spoke to the ghostly apparition. "You said that they were going to rise again as ghost, yes."

"Yes, child," the spook answered.

"Then when can we ask them about how they died?"

Nick nodded, and quickly caught his head from falling. "I see where you are going with this. Unfortunately, ghosts are not as quick to form as you might think. Some say it has to do with magical energies in the area, specifically so they can generate a substance from it to form our bodies."

"Ectoplasm?" she asked.

Nearly-Headless Nick beamed down at her. "Intelligent girl you have here, Lord Slytherin. You are very fortunate that she favors you." Seeing that he was making the young couple uneasy, he decided to switch back to the topic she had asked. "There is also the transition time for a new ghost to realize what has become of them. Some refuse to believe it. Others just bemoan their fate, refusing to accept the new opportunities that-"

Draco rolled at the ghost blathering. "How soon?" Draco insisted with a growl.

"Oh, maybe a week or three; though I do know a member of the Royal Hunt that said it took him over two months, but he's a bit of a braggart. It's never been easy to determine just how soon a ghost will rise after their death. I'm surprised no one has bothered to do a study on the matter. But then, the living rarely want to reflect on things tied to their mortality. Shame really. There is so much the living can learn from us."

"Nick?" Harry spoke.

"Yes, Lord Slytherin?" The ghost looked down at him from where he floated over the bodies.

"Perhaps you should go tell Kingson about this." Harry began gently pulling Hermione out of the corridor before she could become sick. Draco followed slowly behind them, keeping his eyes on the dead bodies until Harry closed the secret passage.

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_**AUTHOR's**____**NoTeS**__**: **___

_I wanted to make this chapter longer, but I think everyone has already waited to long for me to post this._

_It's been a busy time for me. I've had a temporary nerve stimulator put into my spine to help block my pain. Results were good, so now we just have to have the permanent one place in. It's a painful process, but I hope to get more out of life with it blocking some of my pain. I also had a tooth pulled. It had to be sectioned into two parts, and then each sectioned extracted separately. So not fun._

_Anyway, I hope all of you out there have been having a better time than I have._

_Review please!_

_Next chapter: Marge and the abomination of Voldemort will be playing a bigger role._


	29. Chapter 29

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 29**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

**Hogwarts**

Rita Skeeter was in shock and awe over everything she had witnessed this night. She had originally thought that she would get some fluff pieces at the Yule Ball as she scoped everything out in her animagus beetle form. Perhaps even witness a juicy scandal if she were lucky. But what she got instead was probably what would mount up to be the story of her career! And she could most likely turn out a book or two on it as well!

Who knew that squibs could be so uppity as to try capture the premier school of the Wizarding world? And to do it while two foreign schools were visiting! The political upheaval will be tremendous when this is over!

And worst of all, the squibs had done it! They had actually taken the castle and captured the teachers, students and tournament officials!

Who would have guessed that squibs –the rejects of the Wizarding world– had become so organized? Or that they could even mount any type of opposition to those who could use magic. The magic draining gel and foam that they used to overcome the witches and wizards at the ball was truly frightening. Even from where Rita had been watching in the rafters in her water beetle form, she had almost been hit by stray splashes. She wasn't sure if the stuff would have changed her back into her human form, or just leave her trapped as a water beetle. Whatever the result, she didn't want to find out. And for the most part, she stayed in the relative safety of the rafters, and learned what she could.

However, she had managed to follow the leader, a squib by the name of Samuel Kingson who was evidently a relative of the Hogwarts potions master. For the meeting, the heads of the squib uprising sat at one side of the table and Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Undersecretary Umbridge, and one of the middle children of Arthur Weasley who was standing in for Barty Crouch for some reason. She was able to easily hide on the frame of one of the painting in the room, and there recorded everything that was said in the illuminating meeting.

It became even more insane when the ghost known as Nearly Headless Ned or Nick or something had come rushing in with the outrageous tale of a monstrous version of Voldemort's ghost breaking free in the castle, consuming other ghosts, and planning who knows what.

Later, when they had gone back to the Great Hall, Rita had hitched a ride on the underside of McGonagall's hair bun. After McGonagall and the ghost had relayed the events to the teens and adults, the majority of students and staff seemed to be leaning to joining forces with the squibs in taking down the ghastly abomination.

Rita wasn't sure what she thought about that at the moment, and decided to take the role of a passive observer, just compiling the data to examine later.

She had been fortunate to see the ghost go up to Potter and his girlfriend, Hermesine or something like that. The girl's hair was definitely looking better than the time she had seen the teen in the Champions' Tent. Before she would have compared her hair to a doxy nest, but now the muggle-born had clearly gotten her hands on some magical hair products. Rita had carefully flew after them, narrowly being missed by an aggressive swooping Snowy owl that she was surprised was even in the Great Hall.

She had carefully hid in the tapestry and was surprised as everyone else when the ghost said there was a secret passage behind it. (Well, not really surprised. Hogwarts was littered with secret passages after all.)

The butchered bodies of _The Weird Sisters_ littering the stone floor of the corridor was by far the most gruesome sight she had ever come across. She hadn't even seen so much blood spilt in Knockturn Ally after the Vampire Purge almost a decade ago. (But then again vampires never spilt much blood unless absolutely necessary.)

She had at first believed that the squibs had murdered the band until her heard Harry Potter point out the details to the crime scene. The conclusion that the most-likely suspect in the killing was the ex-auror Mad-Eye Moody. Alastor Moody's paranoia was legendary in the Ministry; she'd printed more than a few stories on him through the years, earning herself a black mark in his book. The thought of someone as dangerous and deadly as Moody losing it and going on a killing spree sent shivers through her exoskeleton. In truth, Moody was not as dangerous as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but he came a lot closer to that bar than most could.

She stayed behind in the forgotten passageway while Potter closed the door, thus leaving her with the bodies of the band. She flew all around the dead musicians as she soaked up every detail. She had to be careful to leave no trace of herself behind to be discovered by the Auror forensics team. That was the main reason she didn't transform into her normal self and rifle through their pockets to learn what she could about what was going on in their lives before it was so abruptly ended. She had heard recently from one of her sources that there was a rumor one of the members of _The Weird Sisters_ was getting engaged. If she could find proof of that rumor in the form of a love letter, it would be galleons in the bank. But she couldn't risk crossing the aurors. Amelia Bones was already looking for a reason to interrogate her. Signs that Rita had been at the crime scene of The Weird Sisters would certainly give more than enough reason to question her under veritaserum. After that, Rita's secret animagus form would be out for the world to know, and most places she normally got her scoops would be warded for insects or filled with insect-eating plants,

But she couldn't dwell on that. She had detecting to do so she could write the scoop of her career. Some of what she'd seen and heard she was sure that her editor would highly censor, especially since he would be following the mandate of _The Daily Prophet_'s new owner, Lucius Malfoy. But the very fact that her story was censored in the newspaper would make the sales of her book sell all the more as people would want to read what had been left out previously. Especially if she included everything down to the last detail. She would surely have to rent a pensieve from Gringotts to make sure she got every juicy tidbit, but it would be galleons well spent. And the most ironic part was that she wouldn't have to exaggerate anything.

After looking over the bodies as well as she could, she searched secret door for a crack to squeeze through to get back into the Great Hall. When that didn't work, she flew down the corridor to where it ended, coming through a door that was behind a painting that was not closed all the way.

Rita traveled through the air, meaning to go back around to the main entrance to the Great Hall. There she would decide whether it would be more beneficial to tag around with Kingson, or to go back and hear what plots Potter and his girlfriend make.

She was rounding a corner when she almost flew into the face of a man who had been walking toward her.

The man swatted at her with his hand, which Rita neatly avoided. She had been about to continue on her way when she realized that the man she had almost flown into was Harry's uncle. Rita winged herself over to a suit of armor and came to a rest on it's shoulder, all while continuing to examine the fat man, Vernon Dursley.

Anger began to build up within her toward the muggle to the point that the armor she was roosting on was beginning to vibrate from her magic. Seeing that she was in danger of giving herself away, she concentrated on her Occlumency training to lower her emotions. Occlumency, while it does calm a person and block others from reading your thoughts and emotions, it also heightens a person's awareness around them; all of which are excellent reasons for a reporter to learn Occlumency. This time her Occlumency let her observe the muggle more closely, and what she noticed surprised her.

She glanced up and down the hall, checking for people, ghosts and any occupants in the nearby portraits. Only then did she flutter down a safe distance behind the fat muggle and transform herself.

"Where is she?" Vernon muttered under his breath, with a hint of anxiety. "She really shouldn't be off on her own in such a freaky place. I need to watch over her. It's what brothers are supposed to do for their sisters. She really shouldn't be-"

"Mr. Dursley," Rita said out loud.

Vernon spun around so fast he almost caused himself to crash into a nearby suit of armor. Righting himself, he gave the woman in front of him a scowl. "Which one are you, a witch or a squib?"

Flabbergasted for a moment at having been possibly mistaken as a squib, she finally gave a shake of her head to put that thought aside. "That doesn't matter right now, Mr. Dursley. What does matter is what I noticed about you."

Vernon grit his teeth. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Rita gave a small sigh of exasperation. She needed the man to trust her for a moment; and yet with the look he was giving her she didn't see how that was possible. But if he couldn't trust her, maybe there was someone else that he could trust. "Mr. Dursely, do you have your own house-elf?"

He looked stubborn, and she was afraid that he wasn't going to respond. Finally, he blurted out, "Petunia got one."

"And that's you wife, right?"

He had turned to look down the hall in search for someone. "Yeah."

"And as the head of your house, your wife's house-elf has to obey you and always tell you the truth, yes?"

A grimace now adorned his puffy face. "That's what Marge told me."

Rita nodded. She had first seen Vernon's sister in the Great Hall. A more horrible muggle she had never seen before. "Right, I need you to call your family's house-elf right now so that it can help you with something that I have noticed."

She saw him hesitate. "Remember, the house-elf has to obey you, not me," she added before he refused.

Grudgingly, he called out, "Winky!"

The meek house-elf appeared with a cracking sound, looking nervously at her feet. She had felt the wards change hands, just as every other house-elf, ghost, and portrait in Hogwarts had. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it.

"M-master calls?" she asked, timidly.

Rita spoke up quick as she wasn't sure how much time she had before someone came to find the wayward muggle. "Winky, I need you to look at your master. Can't you see that someone is controlling him with potions of some kind?"

Winky raised her hands to her cheeks and gasped in surprise, her eyes so wide that they looked like her eyeballs could just fall out of her head with the slightest jostle.

"What is this? What are you talking about?" demanded Vernon.

Rita shook her head as if in despair. "Literally what I said; someone is trying to control you with loyalty potions. And they could very likely make you turn against your loved ones at a moment's notice."

Vernon rounded on the house-elf. "And you say it's true?" he demanded, harshly.

"It's true!" Winky squeaked.

Vernon's eyes darted around. "That means I could be a danger to Marge," he mumbled.

"As well as to your wife and son," Rita added, calculatedly.

Vernon nodded absent-mindedly to this, so she pressed on. "There is a way to undo this."

He now gave her a suspicious glare. "And how it that?"

Rita then nodded toward Winky. "Just have your house-elf get a potion that would purge this controlling potion from your body so that you have your freewill to keep your loved ones safe."

"Is this true?" he demanded gruffly of Winky.

"Is absolutely true," admitted Winky, still starring at him with her large eyes.

Vernon grumbled before turning his back to them to give himself a moment to think. With an exasperated sigh, he leaned against the wall. It was so hard to make decisions without Marge around. It was his duty as her brother to do right by her. If someone had made it so he could turn against her, well… he had to do what he could to make him not a threat to her. Even if it meant trusting magic to do so.

"Fine. Get me the damn potion!" he demanded angrily.

Winky glanced at Rita for just the barest of moments before popping away to retrieve the necessary potion.

The house-elf returned within seconds, holding out the vial of greenish potion up for Vernon.

"This is it then?" he asked.

Winky nodded, making her ears flap some. "This potion for removing controlling potions," she stated, fearfully.

Vernon looked at it worrisomely. "Ah, damn. But if it will make it so I'm not a possible threat to Marge, then I have to do it."

It smelled of peppermint and wet grass, but tasted something like eggs that had been boiled way too long with a pinch of mustard and pineapple. Altogether, not as bad as he feared.

Within seconds, Vernon fell onto his backside, landing hard enough to take the breath from him. He was blinking rapidly, and wrapped his arms the best he could around his large stomach as he underwent severe cramps.

"What-what the hell is this?" he looked up at them fearfully, suddenly worried that they had poisoned him.

Rita tisked at the man. She had taken that same potion a few times in her life. The cramps were just a bit worse than the cramps she had to put up with once a month. "It's the potion at work. It's pulling all the loyalty potion to itself so that it can be purged from your body."

Vernon groaned pathetically as he rolled onto his side, reminding Rita of a beached whale she had once seen that had attracted a family of small wyverns. The Oblivator teams had had their hands full removing the memories from all the muggles on the beach. It had taken two days before the wyverns had consumed the majority of the whale, and moved on. But Rita had enjoyed writing the story, as it was summer and had kept her on the beach the whole time. Rarely did she get to enjoy such locales. And best of all she had been able to right it all off as business expenses.

"It should just be a few more moments and then you should feel as right as rain," Skeeter told the muggle, who looked like he was turning purple as he hyperventilated.

As if on cue, Vernon began to throw up the potion he had swallowed which now glowed a neon yellow color.

More and more liquid came out of the man as he continued to heave.

Rita Skeeter began to look apprehensive. She wasn't sure how many loyalty potions the man had been given, or even over how long a period of time. She also had not thought to think that the man was a muggle instead of a magical, therefore the purging potion might not react the same. And possibly even prove to be lethal.

"Damn," she muttered, wishing she had thought this through more.

Finally, Vernon ceased his heaving, and collapsed onto his back, sucking in large amounts of air.

"Get him some water," Rita ordered the house-elf.

Winky instantly had a glass of chilled water with a straw. She leaned down next to Vernon's head and offered him a sip.

The next few minutes was used for Vernon to recover his wits and taking sips of water to replace what had been lost from his body.

_A loyalty potion_, he thought to himself. Who would have given him such a thing?

His first thought would have been Samuel Kingson, except that he had barely trusted the man. If fact he couldn't think of anyone that he had trusted in the whole damn castle except for…

"Marge," he said, in a whisper.

"What was that?" Rita asked. She had been busy putting some of the muck that Vernon had puked up into a small bottle for possible evidence later on.

As if he were an engine starting up, Vernon leapt to his feet, shouting, "Marge!" He then rounded on Rita. "You people! Your lot are the ones that made her do that to me! You freaks mess up everyone and everything with your freaky magic! You change things! You change people! You never leave anything alone! You taint everything around you!" And with that he lunged at her.

Alarmed, Rita drew her wand only for Vernon to slap it out of her hand so that it was knocked away and clattered on the stone floor down the hall. Rita immediately stepped away only to slip in some of the mess Vernon had expelled, slipping toward the hard stone wall. She transformed into her water beetle form before she hit the unyielding castle floor and winged it out of there in terror, not caring at the moment that she had just revealed that she was an animagus to the deranged muggle.

Vernon stood there watching as the bug flew away from him. He wasn't surprised that she had just turned into a bug. He'd already seen Harry godfather turn into a black dog. For all he knew all of the freaks could become animals.

But that wasn't what was really upsetting him.

Marge had turned against him. She had used him. Turned him into a puppet. His own sister.

Deep down, he had always known that she had a cruel streak. He also knew her to be greedy as well. He'd even help invest in a few of her money schemes that rarely turned a profit. But he never thought she would try and manipulate him. And to do it to this extent. To literally take his will away.

Seeing an alcove, Vernon stumbled into it to collapse on an ornate loveseat. There he wept for some time before he noticed Winky standing nearby with a glass of water and a handkerchief.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

Winky cringed, but spoke after a moment. "Winky just wanted to help." She held out the handkerchief tentatively.

Vernon snatched the small piece of embroidered linen from the house-elf, using it to wipe his face before blowing his nose into it. Only then did he take another drink of water offered by the house-elf.

Both man and house-elf stayed there, lost in their own thoughts, both filled with pity and grief.

¯`•.¸¸.•´¯

**Staircase at Hogwarts**

Marcus Flint hurried down the stairs. He was elated and terrified at the same time. He found everything exhilarating. Tonight was the greatest experience in his young life. He couldn't wait to tell his father and uncles what he had done.

"Would you take it easy and slow down! You are bouncing me all over the place! I can't concentrate!"

The command had not come from the Slytherin student. At least not entirely.

Flint had his robes tore open to expose the right side of his chest. There, protruding from his upper chest like a misshaped breast, was the face of a young man.

"Sorry, master." Marcus slowed his pace and tried to stay steadier as he continued down the stairs.

When Marcus had been hired by Draco to discover what the abomination was that the ghosts were guarding secretly, he had no idea that the thing the ghosts called an '_abomination_' was actually a part of the Dark Lord that his family had so willing served during the last war.

The abomination had explained to the gullible student that he was a piece of the soul of the Dark Lord Voldemort, otherwise known as Tom Riddle, created while he was still a student at Hogwarts. He went on to explain how he had been possessing a student two years prior and had loosed Slytherin's basilisk to terrify the mudbloods and blood traitors by terrifying several students over a period of time before having his work undone by the blasted Potter brat. However, as he fled what he thought was his demise, he had come upon some ghosts and consumed their essence. Thus, he found a way to stay on this plane of existence, but all too soon was trapped in a ward trap set up by the Grey Lady and the Fat Friar.

Once Riddle had bonded with Marcus by creating a facial construct on Marcus' chest for him to inhabit, he went and absorbed the essence of the ghost Marcus had stunned before freeing him. Binns turned out to be as dusty and dull as his classes were. But there was still power in him, ectoplasmic energies that Riddle was more than willing to consume and strengthen himself with.

Riddle had the Slytherin student go up to the seventh floor in search of something that had been calling out to him for the past two years. He had been stymied for a while as the call seemed to end at a wall. It was only in frustration as he had Marcus pace about to try determine a way to get to it that a door opened to a room littered with almost everything imaginable. Following the call to him, Riddle led Marcus to a diadem.

"I can't believe I ended up making more than one horcrux," Riddle muttered to himself, his newly formed eyes studying the tiara that Flint held in his left hand. "I suppose three horcruxes would be stable. Three is a powerful magic number, plus no one would consider that someone would create three such things." A frown appeared on Riddle's face. "I hope I wasn't fool enough to try make more than three. Seven is a more powerful number, but to do something like that to one's own soul seven times? It would be sure to drive a person mad. I wonder if the other me had found a moment to ask Slughorn about it."

Sensing something, he commanded Marcus to stop. Using his mind to take partial control of Flint's arm, he used it to point off in a direction. "Something that ties to us, but is different, is in that direction. I think there are others as well, but this one is closest."

"How is it tied to us?" Marcus asked.

"Not you and I," snapped Riddle. "I mean it is tied to me and the other part of me that is in Rowena's diadem."

Marcus glanced down at the tiara he was holding and decided to not say anything. After all, he had seen the Bloody Baron dancing around in a dress while singing about how pretty he was. While he didn't understand it, Marcus chalked it up to being something to do with the time period that they came from. After all, no generation understands the one before it, as the saying goes.

Marcus walked down the hall while Riddle kept talking to himself and the tiara.

"No! I will not join with you! You would just overwrite me with your own memories and I would just become a footnote in our history! It's not happening! I am Tom Marvolo Riddle just as much as you are! More in fact at this moment so stop pestering me while I find you a suitable body to connect with!" Riddle looked up at his host. "The damn tiara's made him something of a prima donna," he confided.

Marcus just gave a meek grimace and continued in the direction that his master had indicated. "We're coming up to the teachers' quarters," Marcus announced.

"Keep going. A bit farther. On the left. Yes, that door there."

Marcus froze as he read the name on the door. "That-" his voice squeaked, causing him to pause. "That's Mad-Eye Moody's quarters! He used to be a psychotic auror who fought against you! He personally blasted off my grand-papa's wand hand in a duel! And killed off one of my uncle's and several of my parents' cousins! And now that he's here at Hogwarts as the DADA professor, he's been teaching the _Unforgivables_ to the students! I'm telling you he's as crazy as he is dangerous!"

Riddle smirked. "Sounds like the kind of teacher I wish I had had while I was a student. I might have learned quite a bit from a man like that."

Flint shook his head. "He despises what he calls '_the spawn of Death Eaters_'. Its quotes like that that finally got him forced to retire from the auror corps. Well, that and that he is paranoid as hell. How Dumbledore got him to come to teach at Hogwarts is beyond me."

"Hmm, is he powerful?" Riddle asked in a calculative tone.

"Not Dumbledore powerful, but, yeah, I think he's up there in sheer power ranking. I mean, he'd have to be in order to overcome so many Death Eaters, right?"

Riddle tried to shake his head, then stopped in annoyance as he remembered that he was only a face on someone else's body at the moment. "Not necessarily. He could just be quicker on the draw and more cunning with certain spells. It really doesn't take much to overcome others if you know what you are doing."

Marcus nodded, feeling important that his new master would share information with him. "She what should we do? Get out of here?"

"Knock. I would like to meet this man."

Instead of complying immediately to the command, Flint started to back away from the door in terror. He couldn't even imagine what would happen to him if someone like Mad-Eye Moody found part of the Dark Lord growing out of his chest, but he knew for certain that he didn't want to find out. He could only hope that this teenage version of the Dark Lord was joking. "Are you serious- Arrrgh!"

His guts felt like they were blowing up and ready to burst. Even worse, they felt like they had been set on fire as well.

"You will do as I command!" Tom snarled up at him. "And you will do it instantly from now on!" The horcrux finally released the hold he had on the Slytherin's intestines, and Marcus began expelling a foul greenish-brown cloud from his backside that stank up the hall and made the torches lighting the hall flare up so that they scorched the ceiling.

Marcus, still on his hands and knees, felt shame and fear, as well as some confusion. His father had mentioned that there had been times when the Dark Lord would discipline his loyal Death Eaters, but he hadn't really thought just what that all meant. And while Marcus knew that this was an aspect of the Dark Lord, it was still a teenager. A teenager that Marcus was older than.

Marcus climbed to his feet, his hands shaking so much he almost dropped the diadem.

Riddle took immediate control of Flint's wand hand and used it to expel the foul odor Flint had produced. Then in front of Moody's door he cast another spell in parsel tongue that created a small blueish-white ball of light that hung in the air.

Riddle put on a smug look. "Now, whoever opens that door, or more actually, when someone stands in that doorway, the spell ball will automatically hit them."

"Th-that would be useful," Flint responded. He almost asked if the young Dark Lord would teach him that spell when he remembered that he couldn't speak parsel tongue so it would be impossible to teach him. "What sh-should I do now?"

"Knock, then stand clear."

Marcus was about to mention the ball of light, but remembered the punishment he had just endured and decided it might just be safer to just knock on Mad-Eye's door and see what happens.

Marcus gave the door three quick sharp raps, and then stepped to the side. After several moments, the door was sudden thrust open, and the ball of light jetted inwards just as a beam of magically energy lashed out of the room, scorching the rock wall.

"Check if there is anyone else inside."

Marcus moved forward only to suddenly stop.

"Not that way!" snarled Riddle. "Don't they teach students anything these days?"

Riddle took command of Marcus' arm again while muttering something in Latin. "No one's inside." He then did several spell checks on the door area, finding several spells that were not particularly safe for someone that just barged inside. After undoing all the protections Moody had laid around the room, he was ready to go inside. He did pause to take note of one set of runes in the ceiling that would for some reason change the color of the hair of someone exiting the room to neon blue. That had to be some kind of prank meant to get Moody so Riddle simply destroyed it.

Once inside, Flint closed the door to ensure their privacy. The only problem was that instead of Moody being bound up and petrified on the floor, it was a smaller, thin man in his thirties. The man was unable to speak, but his eyes were bugging out at the sight of the face protruding from Flint's chest.

"Who the hell is this?" Marcus blurted out.

"I don't know," Riddle answered slowly. "But I feel something connecting me to him by something on his arm." Using the wand again, he had the sleeve on the man's arm ripped off, exposing the dark tattoo.

"The Dark Mark!" Marcus exclaimed happily. "He's one of your loyal followers, my lord!"

Riddle looked over the mark on the man's arm. He recognized it as a doodle he had once created while striving to stay awake in Binns' class, which is also when he created the name Lord Voldemort from an anagram of his name. The doodle was a recreation of the first time he had seen the basilisk come out of the mouth of the statue of Slytherin in the Chamber of Secrets. He'd been rather proud of it and had practiced drawing it in various ways to make it more impressive. Eventually, he had substituted a skull in place of Slytherin's head, making the image even eerier. It seemed oddly fitting that he had eventually used it to mark his servants. There was other magic interwoven into the tattoo, but he could only discern the barest inklings of what any of them did.

"He's definitely someone we should talk to," Riddle said with a growing smirk. Then with a little more magic, he allowed the man to be able to speak again.

The man gulped audibly. "Who are you?"

"I think you already know," Riddle answered with a sneer.

"You-you are a fragment of the Dark Lord."

"Fragment!" snarled Riddle. "You dare to consider me to be a mere fragment!?"

If anything, the man seemed more terrified than before. "I-I meant no disrespect. I just meant that you were… er, are… part of the master that I serve." The man's eyes snapped up to Flint's, but the teen was simply reveling in the terror of the man in front of him. Shifting his eyes back to the face protruding from the teen's chest, the man on the ground licked his lips nervously.

Tom Riddle was not appeased by any means. "I have done more to help the one you follow, who is actually a part of me, than all of you so-called servants combined and multiplied!" he spat. "I have sacrificed a portion of my very being! I remained in that dusty diary for decades, awake, aware, my cognitive mind fully functional!"

Riddle felt cheated more than everything else. The tearing sensation from being ripped away and then welded ceremoniously into his private diary as that was one of the things he had had with him when he had unintentionally got the young Ravenclaw student killed by her looking into the eyes of the basilisk. And while Myrtle's murder wasn't planned, he wasn't about to let it go to waste. And thus, he quickly created his first horcrux.

Riddle hadn't realized that by making a horcrux that he would literally be imprisoning a portion of himself to be stuck inside the diary, with all the memories, desires and dreams of himself. In truth, he's been rather shortsighted about all the ramifications. Not that the other part of himself had known that. Or that he would have even cared.

The part of his that had remained outside the horcrux, Voldemort, had gone on to achieve his climb to power, no doubt traveling the world to accumulate power while training, and later gathering his followers in his bid to take over the Wizarding world.

The anger and frustration over the perceived unfairness of it all boiled within Riddle. It didn't matter to him that part of him had been able to continue on with his dreams, he had not! He had been left stuck in a book and placed inside a dusty library, with very little awareness of his surroundings except when some fool wrote on the pages.

It seemed even more unfair that Voldemort had gone and made even more horcruxes, meaning that there were more versions similar to himself, trapped and tucked away in some dusty corner, all so the segment of Riddle's soul that remained free could remain on this plane of existence and thumb his nose at death.

Riddle snarled at the man on the floor. "You claim to serve Voldemort? Then let us see just how well you serve him." He held up the diadem with Flint's hand. "Do you see what this is?"

The man's tongue flicked across his lips nervously. "It's… a tiara. Made in an old style."

"Old is right," Riddle said with a grin. "So old in fact that when it was created it was still being called a diadem."

The man took in a gasp of air. "Is that the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw?" He wasn't actually wanting conformation; he was sure that what the monstrosity was holding in front of him was truly the historical relic that had been lost in the annals of time. He just didn't know why he was showing him.

Riddle let his anger go and smirk. "See for yourself," he said, casually tossing it to the man.

Barty Crouch Jr. was having a hell of an evening. First, he'd had to attend the idiotic Yule Ball. Then squibs of all things had attacked everyone at the ball with some goop that sucked up magic. He'd fought, but had eventually been struck several times, undoing the polyjuice potion that he used. He'd been fortunate to get out of there without anyone in the Great Hall seeing him by ducking down an old secret passage. Only then he'd crashed into several men in the passageway. He hadn't recognized them as anyone belonging there, so assumed they had been part of the attacking squibs. Either way, he'd been seen by them, so he executed all of them as quickly as he could. Only afterwards did he recognize them as the band The Weird Sisters. But that didn't matter. What did matter was getting back to the teachers' quarters so that he could get more polyjuice potion before he discovered to not be who everyone thought he was.

And now he was unarmed and faced with one of his master's horcruxes. And he only knew that because he had mentioned the subject that his master should consider making such a thing (something he had learned of while sneaking a look into his family grimoire). His master had looked up at him from the tiny corrupted baby form and laughed, before saying '_How do you think I survived that damn Halloween night thirteen years ago?_'

How all these events were possible he couldn't imagine any more than having the legendary Ravenclaw diadem suddenly tossed to him. He grasped it by the rim in surprise and desperation to not let it be damaged.

Instantly, Crouch felt an incredibly strong urge to place the sparkling tiara on his head. He also knew he shouldn't do anything of the sort because it was obviously a cursed artifact of some kind.

"What is it?" he desperately asked, afraid of the answer.

"It's another horcrux." Flint walked slowly around the man, much like a predator circling wounded prey, searching for every weakness. "Another part of me," Riddle said, enjoying the show as he watched the man struggle with the diadem. "Or a part of your master, if that makes it easier to accept."

Crouch glanced up, his eyes terrified. "What is this going to do to me?" It was one thing to read about horcruxes from the family grimoire; it was another altogether to have one actually in your hand.

"I believe you will become a host body for your master. At least temporarily. But you needn't worry, after all it is just a _fragment_ of your master's soul."

Barty was becoming desperate at this point, as both hands now held the diadem and slowly, painstakingly raising it to his brow. Frantically, he looked across the room, and say what could be his salvation.

"I know how you can get your own body!" he yelled out, the diadem only centimeters from touching his head.

He sat there on the floor shaking with his eyes closed, when he realized that the diadem was no longer attempting to rest on his head.

"What was that!?" Riddle now knelt by the man, causing Barty to jerk away from the face that was pressing out from Flint's chest. If anything, the tight skin pulled tight across Riddle's face made the horcrux seem even more grotesque. "What did you say about getting a way for us to have our own body?"

Barty had to work to keep from gagging from Riddle's horrid breath, a trick he had mastered while in the presence of Voldemort's monstrous baby form. Pettigrew wasn't always at hand when his master needed fresh nappies, and, well, duty calls. Part of his mind wondered if the putrid smell was a normal occurrence with creatures made in connection to horcruxes. Another part of his brain was trying to determine how best to explain what his idea was.

Finally, he decided the danger in front of him was to take priority in his concerns, and since these horcruxes were a part of his Dark Lord, it wouldn't truly be treason. At least he hoped that his Dark Lord would take it that way.

"Over there! On the wall there, there is a portrait of Salazar Slytherin! He knows of a way to move someone safely into another body!" Barty licked his lips again. "He had told me about how Godric had done it for his son."

Marcus looked down at the face protruding from his chest to see if Riddle believed that the legendary Godric Gryffindor could do something that in today's world would be considered a heinous act worthy of The Veil.

Riddle had Marcus walk toward the portrait, but made sure not to stand directly in front of it in case of any traps. Inside the portrait, an older, bald wizard with bushy eyebrows was studying them.

"Who do you claim to be?" demanded Riddle.

The portrait chuckled, as a partial sneer graced his face. "You would know me as Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts, and Grand Potion Master, as well as-"

"If you truly are the portrait of Salazar Slytherin," interrupted Riddle, "Then where have you been all these centuries?"

"Safely stored away in my private quarters down in my Chamber of Secrets."

"Impossible!" snarled the abomination.

"M-my lord," Marcus Flint said as politely as he could with a raging being showing a great deal of agitation sticking out of his chest. "I-I think you should know that the half-blood Potter recently gave a tour of the Chamber of Secrets to the upper years and the visiting schools."

"It's true," proclaimed the still semi-petrified Crouch. "Snape and the half-Goblin Flitwick found a hidden tunnel and managed to find the way to enter inside Slytherin's private chambers. I followed them while disillusioned and was able to rescue the portrait before they could get it in their clutches."

Riddle seethed at the news. He'd spent untold hours trying to open up the rune covered doorway that would lead into Slytherin's private chambers. And now a potions professor and a half-Goblin beat him to it.

"Tell me this secret of how you would move one person into another."

A cold smile graced Salazar's face. "As I told Mr. Crouch, I will not share this great secret until I meet and get to know the person. Therefore, I will have to converse with Voldemort before giving him the aid he needs. I would not let just anyone be able to take on a new life."

Riddle tried to nod in understanding, but just looked ridiculous instead. "I see. So the great Lord Voldemort, of whom is both my past and future, is also in need of this type of magic that can more a person's mind and soul into a fresh empty body." He slowly walked back to the semi-petrified Crouch, and took the diadem horcrux out of his still fingers.

He was twirling the diadem irreverently on one finger as he thought about everything he had heard so far. Still, he did jump and drop it what a traveling trunk suddenly jumped about while giving off muffled curses.

"What in Merlin's beard was that?"

"Uh," Crouch began. "It's just the person I've been impersonating while at Hogwarts. He's totally dangerous. One of the fiercest aurors any Death Eater has ever faced. But even so, he is still safely locked up in there."

Riddle put the numbers together. "You keep him alive in order to have the necessary ingredient to use polyjuice potion in order to impersonate him." His stock in the Death Eater rose. To have a Death Eater so dedicated that they would intentionally repeatedly consume polyjuice over the length of a school year… The man would start to have severe health problems once his body began having difficulty holding to either shape. A man this devoted, Riddle would have to try and see if he could also be given a new body to continue to serve. The only problem was would the man to loyal to him, or just to Voldemort. He needed to be sure that this man that Salazar called Crouch would not turn on him.

And there was only one way he could think to do that. Reaching down, he had Marcus pick up the diadem and begin twirling it around again on his finger. Nodding to the portrait, he turned away and stepped closer to Crouch.

"I need an ally that I can trust. And the only way that I can think to do that is for you to be in the same boat I am in."

That said, he had Flint take the diadem and firmly fixing it to Barty Crouch Jr.'s brow. Then silenced the man as the horcrux began to take the man over.

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_**AUTHOR's**____**NoTeS**__**: **___

_5-2-2016_

_First, I just want to assure everyone that I am not trying to rehabilitate Vernon. Most men won't change even if their life is turned upside down. Many people have commented that they don't want Vernon to get back together with Petunia. I just want to say that I am not planning that for him._

_Now I'm not sure how it happened in the true story as it seems a bit vague, but for mine I have Riddle make a horcrux when Myrtle accidently got killed, using her death as an opportunity. Then sometime later he goes and asks Slughorn about the possibility of making more than one horcrux. I have it this way so that the diary horcrux who became the 'abomination' in my story, didn't know that Voldemort had created more horcruxes later, so is genuinely surprised to come across one in the form of the diadem._

_Also Salazar talked about being able to the spell to transfer someone's being into a soulless living body in the latter part of Chapter 18 and again in Chapter 19 in case anyone wanted to go back and reread it._

_Tomorrow I go to have surgery. I'm going to have what I think is called a spinal cord stimulator put into my spine. Basically it is supposed to create something like static so that some of the pain receptors are blocked. Not all of my pain will go away, but it will be reduced by a great deal. I had a temporary one put in about a month ago, and it seems to work so now I have to go in and have the permanent one stuck into me, It's rather nerve-racking to think about. But the theory is that I will be able to have more of a life afterwards. Well, anyway, just wanted to say a bit of what I and my family are going through. Those of you that would, please send a prayer our way and thanks. _


	30. Chapter 30

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 30**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

**Gates of Hogwarts**

There were several crackling noises as several dozen well-dressed witches and wizards apparated in front of the frosty gates of Hogwarts. A large man by the name of Gregory Goyle, Sr. stomped over to the bared gates and began to try shake them as a means of forcing them open, causing only a few small icicles to fall.

"Locked!" the gruff man announced to the others. "We'll have to blast it open if we are to save our children!"

"Or," came the smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy as he eased around several people. "I could just use my position on the School Board to gain us entrance". Lucius stopped in front of Goyle, waiting for the larger man to accept Lucius' answer to the problem.

Goyle snorted in frustration, but stepped aside for Malfoy to do as he said. Lucius was about at reach for the handle on the gate when a feminine hand took hold of his.

"Husband," Narcissa spoke. "Before you let everyone rush in to attack the people holding our children, perhaps it would be best to form some organization, have some plans ready in case things start to not go in our favor. I know you have '_worked_' alongside some of those here. But others may not know the methods you would use." With her eyes, she indicated over to his left where Amos Diggory, Allon Greengrass, and several others that had been at his party when he received the news of Hogwarts being taken over by squibs.

Lucius frowned, but rightly agreed with his wife. Most of his former Death Eater associates at the party would not hold back their attacks, especially Macnair and Rowle who were already deep in their cups. If Diggory, a Light wizard, saw someone firing killing curses or other lethal spells around, he would be sure to inform about it at any inquire. Allon Greengrass, a Grey wizard, might do the same, depending if any students had been killed. All in all, he had to plan things very carefully.

Turning to his audience, he announced, "We need a plan!"

"We killz 'em all!" Rowle bellowed, his wand already producing a sickly green aura in his tight grip.

Without hesitation Narcissa hit the drunk wizard with a stunner, causing him to fall into a heap on a small, yellow coated snowdrift that some animals had marked in passing.

"Thank you, my dear," Lucius said, making sure he was heard by everyone. "I want you to all know that this is going to be a delicate operation. These squibs have our children captive in the Great Hall. They are the next generation of British wizards and witches as well as our heirs. They must all be saved! And in order to do that, we must be very careful in what spells we use. We can't risk stray spell fire injuring, or, Merlin forbid, killing any of those we are trying to rescue." He paused to let that sink into their heads. While he couldn't just outright tell everyone they couldn't use lethal methods with the likes of Diggory and Greengrass around, he could allude to it. "Whether we want it to be or not, this will be a famous day in our history. Scholars will study our actions here, and remark on them." He caught Antonin Dolohov's eye, and nodded to him. "I wouldn't even be surprised if historians requested memories of the event so as to write up a dramatic story about it as accurately as possible." Dolohov blinked in surprise, and nodded subtly back to Malfoy, understanding to pass along the message to those too thick in the head to comprehend what Lucius was warning them about. There should be no Death Eater-like activity tonight or it could hang them all, despite their '_honorable_' intentions.

A quick look at his wife saw that she was giving instructions to their house-elf, Bouty, on bring several sobering potions. While the initial effects of the potion were rather horrible to the person taking it, it did get the job done. Even so, it was rarely used by anyone unless absolutely necessary. And several of the partiers were more than a little tipsy at this stage of the night.

"We will need to form two groups," Lucius went on. "The first group's job will be to take out any squibs that come against us."

"What's the second group for?" called out Gibbon.

Lucius stood tall, hoping to look righteous in any historical memories collected. "The second group will have the most important job: they will remove our children from the castle and to safety."

Lucius stopped his posturing long enough to point to Amos Diggory. "Amos, I think you should lead the second group. You are somewhat well known to the students, and you have a trusting face. Plus, I have no doubt that your son Cedric will come to your aid in rescuing the students from the castle."

Amos was surprised at being acknowledged by Malfoy, but could find no fault in his reasoning. "How many should I include in my group?"

Lucius tapped his wand to his chin as he considered. "I'd say a dozen at most. I am assuming, of course, that most of the upper year students will join in helping your group to evacuate the castle."

Amos nodded, then began to look around to see who of those there would be willing and able to join his group. Horace Slughorn immediately began consulting with the man, stating that as a former student _and_ teacher at Hogwarts, he probably knew more secret passageways than most everyone else.

"I don't want the students to join in the fighting unless there is no other option." Lucius let that sink in for a moment. "We are here to save them, not put them at risk." He let his eyes harden as he scanned over everyone. A few such as Amycus Carrow or Walden Macnair seemed ready to argue with him, but Bouty, the Malfoy house-elf, quickly spelled sobering potion into their stomachs, thus causing them to have something else to focus their attention on.

"We don't know how long we have until Fudge will join us with the aurors. Hopefully we will have the situation restored to normal by then, but if not, please welcome them when they get here and follow their lead. We don't want any confusion as to who they are coming here to fight."

Malfoy nodded to them. He couldn't think of a clearer way of telling them to be on their best behavior, but he was sure most of them understood him. There were two he considered dangerous to his plan from the look in their eye. The first way Avery Crabbe, a vicious man who enjoyed his bloodletting, especially if he perceived that there was an offense to him. The other, and more dangerous of the two, was Atoxica Zabini. He had only known four of her seven husbands, all departed from this world. There were no clues as to how they all died. Even so, they were all dead, and all seven had left their great wealth to their wife. No one dared to accuse her though in everyone's minds she was the culprit. And while she might not have had a great attachment to her husbands, her son, Blaise, was another matter altogether. If her eyes were any indicator, then Hogwarts' castle floors would run red with squib blood tonight.

He would have to find a moment to speak to each of them individually. Two loose wands could wreck everything, and cause many of the children hostages to die in the process.

He was momentarily caught off guard when his wife stepped up close to him.

"I will speak with Zabini," she said quietly. She paused there, and Lucius had to wonder what she was thinking about. Dare he hope that she was starting to forgive him for the whole diary/basilisk debacle?

"You know," she began in a throaty whisper. "If you work this right, it could set you up toward eventually seeing you as the Minister of Magic someday."

He looked at her with surprise. He hadn't even been considering that far ahead.

"Then again," Narcissa said, her voice growing colder and harder. "If our son is harmed in any way, I will keep you awake and alive with potions as I tear out your intestines and feed them to your Death Eater friends while making you watch."

He felt as he had been petrified even as he watched his wife saunter away over to have a word with Atoxica Zabini. Shivers ran down his spine as he realized that men shouldn't be afraid of Zabini nearly as much as they should fear his wife. She was a Black thru and thru.

He was just opening the castle gate when a shape seemed to rush out from the shadows.

"Oh thank Merlin!" called out the figure. "Someone has come to save us! You won't believe what is going on inside Hogwarts!"

A breathless Rita Skeeter nearly collapsed in his arms as she began sobbing dramatically.

Allon Greengrass snorted in amusement at Skeeter's theatrics before grinning at Malfoy. "I think we've found an inside source of information.

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**Conference Room just off from the Great Hall**

Marge Dursley gritted her teeth in anger. She had been trying to interrogate the damn headmaster ever since she had left the Great Hall. She was sure that if these medieval magical freaks were set on living in a massive castle, then they must have a treasury somewhere in it with gold coins and other expensive things piled into it.

"My brother is in charge of this place! You have no right to deny me this information!"

Pale and weak, Albus shook his weary head. "I keep telling you, madam. Hogwarts is a school." His voice was warbling, and he hated it. This damn fat banshee of a muggle was wearing him down with her stupid, narrow-viewed, greedy mindset. "Any gold belonging to the school would be kept in trust at Gringotts, which you would not have access to."

"There must be something here of value!" insisted Marge.

"An education," Snape said flatly from where he sat shackled in his chair.

"Shut up, grease ball!" she shouted while grabbing a large candle from the table and throwing it at him. She missed, but he still received a mild shower of hot candle wax. Not that he showed her that it bothered him any.

Delores Umbridge, tied up in her own chair, rolled her eyes. "You squibs are nothing but thieves! You claim to be here for rights issues, but actually you are just trying to steal everything that isn't nails down. While it is pitiful that you aren't able to fill your places families, I find it truly pathetic that you would lash out at the families who were just trying to-"

"Will you just shut your inane prattling, you pink toad?" hollered Marge. "I didn't come here so I could help get civil rights for people! I came to get rich! Now someone here had better start telling me-"

"Ms. Dursley," came a voice from the door. The redhead squib Terrence Prewett sighed in annoyance as he stepped into the room. He had been assessing damages to their weapons and checking on the injured when a guard had hurriedly informed him of Marge Dursley insisting on grilling the headmaster.

One look at the headmaster had Terrence sending for one of their physicians. The old man looked so ragged after having been drained of the majority of his magic that he seemed to be near death's door. It wasn't so much that Terrence thought that the man was dying, but that he thought that he would recover faster in a healing coma, so he sent for one of their physicians.

The physician that arrived, a wide-eyed, short, grey bearded man with a large hat and a large handbag, hurried into the room. But, instead of going to the headmaster, he moved over to where Percy Weasley sat bound to his chair in a slump. "This man's nearly dead! Why didn't you call me sooner?"

Terrence flustered. "We called you for the headmaster, Phineas."

Phineas glanced up giving the elderly wizard a glance over with his big eyes. "Bah! He's just feeling his age like he would if he were a hundred and twenty-seven-year-old squib. But this young man, he's fading fast." He bit his thumb for a moment in contemplation. "He's one of your kin, right, Terrence?"

Terrence stood there somewhat stunned. Percy had been used as a human shield by Umbridge during the squib takeover of Hogwarts. Later, when several of the higher ranking captors were brought to the conference room, the squib physicians had restored enough magic to them that Dumbledore and the others were awake and able to participate in a meeting with Samuel Kingson and the others. In truth, he had never met any of Molly Weasley's children before this day. He did see the resemblance to himself somewhat in Percy's face more that the rest of his siblings, but passed it off as just another annoying reminder to how he'd been passed over and later removed from the family due to being a squib. Even so, he had no desire to see any of his relatives die in front of him.

"Yes. He's Percy Weasley, and related to the Prewetts on his mother's side. He's also a ministry official, or actually the assistant to one." He gave a slight shake of his head as he considered all the complications that would arise if Percy were to die. "What can you do?" Terrence found himself asking.

Phineas Diggle frowned as he studied several of his instruments that he had connected to the near catatonic Percy. "Damn, his core is collapsing. I think I have only one chance to restore it."

Terrence paled. "You don't mean…"

"Yes, I do," snapped Phineas. "If he is going to remain magical, I'm going to have to try that project I've been working on; otherwise, he'll be a squib for the rest of his life. If he lives, that is."

Phineas shouted out for a house-elf.

"Zingy here!" called out a young, excited house-elf.

Phineas was arms deep into his handbag that he had on the table. He pulled out a small metal case that he put on the table, and unlocked it. "This is still in the experimental stages, but it is his only hope. Fortunately, I'm far along in my experiments enough that I don't feel too worried in doing this." He lifted a brightly polished, four foot, copper tubing that ending in a wrist cuffs in either end.

"Zingy," Phineas spoke to the house-elf. "This young wizard is about to possibly expire. And you alone may be able to save him."

With eyes nearly popping out of his head, Zingy stared first at the squib healer, and then at the pasty-faced Percy. "What does Zingy have to be doing?"

"Simply wear this cuff while I have the other end of it attached to Percy here." He scratched his beard for a moment before continuing. "This tool should transfer some of your magic into the young wizard here."

"Okay-dokay," said the house-elf.

Umbridge managed to jump to her feet despite being tied down to her chair. "Blasphemy! What you are doing is an atrocity against the Wizarding world! This obscene experiment must not be allowed! This young man, such as he is, is a pure-blood! You shall not taint him in this manner with that beast!"

Phineas rolled his eyes at her dramatics. "I've been testing devices like this for over a decade. I have a fair idea of what kinds of influences a magical transfer can cause." With that said, Phineas pulled off his hat revealing overly large misshapen ears. At her look of shock, he winked one of his bulbous eyes at her.

"You-you-you…" She let her chair rest back into a sitting position. "You've willingly turned yourself into a-a-a half-creature monster!? What kind of idiot-"

"Aw shuddup," Phineas spat out distastefully. With that he sent out a yellow spark of light from his finger that touched her with the result of reducing her to making high pitched squeaky chattering instead.

"You have magic?" Snape spoke in surprise. "I thought you were all squibs."

"I was considered a squib," Phineas answered. "Now I'm not quite one. As for magic, that spark was pretty much the extent of it for right now. As you can tell by the ears and eyes, I'm still in the experimental stages. However, since this kin of Prewett's is a wizard with a full magical core, there shouldn't be any trouble in restoring his magical core, with minimal side effects." He paused to scratch his beard. "At least in theory. Either way, what does he have to lose at this point, eh?"

Severus could hear Dumbledore wheezing next to him as the old wizard was trying to say something. "Save your breath, headmaster. I can tell when someone is determined to go through with something, and damn the consequences. And I have to agree with him. This may be Weasley's only chance to live." The potion master watched carefully as Phineas attached the device to Percy and then to the house-elf. "Besides, I am also curious as to what the results may be."

Marge Dursley had had more than enough. She shouted out for a house-elf for herself.

"Yes, mistress?" responded the house-elf who popped into thin air.

"Find my brother and tell him I want to see him right now!" Her patience was at an end. She had joined in this venture for the promise of wealth, and she wanted it now.

The little house-elf quickly popped away, leaving a smug Marge. "Now we will get some answers," she responded with giving Dumbledore and Snape a look of disdain.

The little house-elf popped back into the room looking nervous.

"Where's Vernon?" she demanded.

"H-he is not coming," answered the house-elf. "He says…" She swallowed fearfully before continuing. "He says that youse can-can go stuff yourself!"

Marge's eyes bulged in surprise. Then in a howl of anger, she launched herself at the house-elf. The house-elf has enough self-preservation to pop away, leaving Marge to land painfully on the stone floor. The impromptu fall banged up her knees, causing her to roll onto her back and howl even louder as the pain set in. Then she began shouting for her brother for all her lungs were worth.

Terrence Prewett had enough sense to leave the conference room to go find Samuel Kingson and let him know about the new development.

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**Teachers' Quarters for Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody**

"I'm telling you it will work!" barked the face of the horcrux perversely protruding from the right side of Marcus Flint's chest. Marcus himself was loading several arms worth of books into Moody's multi-chest to take them when they leave.

"And if you are mistaken?" snapped a similar voice. "The consequences will be grave!" Only this time the voice came from the second figure in the room. But it was not from the man himself; instead it come from a similar twisted facial feature bulging from the man's bared right shoulder.

"We are the biological descendants of Salazar Slytherin!" shouted Tom Riddle, agitated that he was having to argue with this older version of himself that had once been stuck inside the Ravenclaw diadem. However, since merging the diadem-Tom onto Barty Crouch, Jr., the horcrux seemed to still be still recuperating from forming itself on the shoulder. A great deal of the problem had to deal with the fact that Crouch had been hit earlier by some of the magic-sucking pellets he's been hit with in the Great Hall. Crouch's body just didn't have all the ambient magic inside him that the diary-Tom had been expecting. This left the diadem-Tom tired and grouchy. Barty Crouch hadn't been entirely thrilled with the sudden extra passenger on his body either, though he was trying to do everything in his power to appease him. It was a part of his master after all, so it was both thrilling and terrifying.

"We must hurry!" Barty insisted. "The squibs are sure to draw the attention of the aurors! We need to get out of the castle and consult… your…" He paused as he was unsure how to address all of the various versions of the master he had sworn to serve. "Your…? Original…? Self…?"

The activity in the room stilled for a moment, the only sound was Marcus Flint nervously swallowing the lump in his throat. His body turned slightly so that the diary-Tom could focus entirely on other host body.

"Let me make one thing very clear." Diary-Tom's words held an icy tone that put shivers down the spines of both Crouch and Flint. "I and the one you are hosting in your body are just as much Lord Voldemort as is the one you swore to serve when you took the Dark Mark." He paused taking total control of Flint's body, and began to step forward, much like a tiger stalking toward its prey, ready to pounce at any moment. "Be thankful that you are currently playing host to my brother horcrux," he hissed. "Or I'd be putting you through a bout of the Cruciatus curse to teach you to give the respect warranted us."

"He meant no harm," came the disinterested voice of the diadem-soul anchor. "He's so damn worried that he's going to offend either of us or our eldest self, that he can hardly think straight."

" '_Eldest self_'?"

The diadem-Tom tried to shrug, but merely made Crouch's shoulder jerk slightly. "He's had the most '_life_' experience. It just seemed like the best term to differentiate between us."

Diary-Tom snorted, annoyed, but let Marcus resume control of his body, much to the teenager's relief.

"Crouch is right about one thing," said diary-Tom. "We do need to leave here."

"Yes," agreed diadem-Tom. "I just wish I wasn't so tired." It had been very frustrating to take on a host only to discover that it was depleted of magical energies. The very process of forming a facial construct onto his shoulder had drained even more of Crouch's magical core.

"You will not recover until you have had time to absorb the ambient magic from around you and let it settle in your being," spoke a cold, but sage, voice from the nearby wall.

Diadem-Tom had Crouch bow low to the portrait on the wall. "My many thanks for that advice, my lord. But if we are to safely flee Hogwarts, I'm just going to have to rely on pepper-up potions for now."

Salazar regarded him from where he sat in his portrait. "Again, I warn you, that my portrait can only be taken off of the Hogwarts grounds by the current Lord Slytherin. I do not know if magic will recognize you as the current lord of Slytherin. The consequences could be dire."

Diary-Tom studied the portrait for a moment before answering. "My brother horcrux and I are of the last of the descendants of yourself. There can be no other that would have the right of taking you from Hogwarts. I do not believe that this Potter brat could truly be named Lord Slytherin. He is a pretender; nothing more."

Salazar nodded from his portrait. "Even when I was among the living, no one could truly claim to understand the intentions of magic. We made observations to the best of our abilities. Sometimes we were even right. And I can see that you are determined to see if you are right."

"I am!" said Riddle's first soul anchor.

The wizard in the portrait nodded. "I do wonder about one thing however."

"Yes?" asked the diadem-Tom.

Salazar's eyes darted back and forth between the two horcruxes. "I wonder what plans your '_eldest_' self will have for you when you are reunited."

"What do you mean by that?" snapped diadem-Tom.

"I think you know very much what I mean. Your '_eldest_' sibling may be of the mind to return you back to the confines of the diadem that you seem to be holding onto rather tightly."

Crouch's left hand was indeed holding tightly onto the small prison that had housed one of sacrificed segments of Voldemort's soul.

"He wouldn't do that!" barked Riddle's first soul anchor.

"And how would you know that?" Salazar asked casually. "After all, this Lord Voldemort seems to have gone through quite a few changes since his school years at Hogwarts."

Crouch shuddered as the horcrux inside him moved the diadem into one of his coat pockets, not wanting to be separated from the diadem. Once his hand was free again, Crouch flexed it, feeling the tiny cuts in the palm and fingers from grasping the ancient tiara so tightly.

"We will discuss the matter with him after we have gotten through our current crisis," diary-Tom said abruptly. With that he raised his wand, and levitated the portrait over to the auror's traveling chest.

"It's too bad that I will miss most of what happens from in here," murmured Salazar. "Try and take notes of whatever happens. I am very interested in how this plays out."

"Oh course, my lord," diary-Tom said before closing the magical chest on it and letting the locks set. He looked over to the other soul anchor, watching as Crouch downed another pepper-up potion.

"You are going to crash hard from those things once you run out of them."

Diadem-Tom grumbled in annoyance. "I'll do what I have to in order to get by. Consequences be damned!"

The teenage horcrux grinned in understanding. "If we come across a ghost, I'll feed it to you. You'll perk right up after that."

"You've really consumed ghosts?" There was more a hint of amazement than there was disbelief in the tone of his sibling soul anchor that led to diary-Tom not taking offence at the question.

"Yes. The first time was right after the Potter brat had destroyed the diary I was housed within. My very being was fleeing the confines of the castle when I came upon members of the Ghostly Hunt. A desperate hunger overcame me and I devoured them. Even their pooka mounts. It was wondrous and empowering. I also no longer felt like I was going to drift beyond the veil of death. I immediately began to hunt more of the ghosts only to eventually be trapped by the Gray Lady and that damn friar. They had me stuck up tight in a ward-skein deep in the dungeons, which is where I stayed for nearly two years."

"That's where I found him!" Marcus Flint stated proudly.

Diary-Tom rolled his eyes, more annoyed than anything that he had to deal with such an idiot like this. Still, he was used to dealing with such imbecilic purebloods when he was a student at Hogwarts. "Yes, and once I was free, I was able to consume Binns."

The other horcrux perked up at this. "Was he as dusty as he sounded?"

That gave diary-Tom a moment to pause. "I'd say he turned out to be more musty instead of dusty. No, that's not quite it. It's not exactly the easiest to explain; it's like suddenly gaining new senses and having to try describe them with practically no references to work with."

Crouch nodded for the horcrux he was hosting. "I look forward to comparing thoughts about it with you. But until I do partake of this 'ghastly cuisine' you speak of, I think it is past time that we left this place."

With that, they left the room, with the auror's traveling chest floating along behind them.

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**The Great Hall**

A gray-looking Minerva McGonagall sat on a chair while shaking her weary head. "This does not bode well for a peaceful reconciliation."

Harry was propped up in a chair leaning against the stone wall. "I just don't know why he did it."

Hermione was standing next to him, her hand slowly going through his wild hair. "We don't know for sure that it was Professor Moody who killed all those people."

"And I'm telling you it was him!" barked Malfoy. "I saw that maniac run off into that secret passageway abandoning all of us! And you have to admit that the bodies we found there were very fresh!"

Harry and Hermione weren't sure why Draco Malfoy had decided to stay with them when they went to tell Professor McGonagall about how they found the bodies of the band, _The Weird Sisters_. But on the positive side of it, if Draco was with them, then he wasn't spreading horrific tales that would cause a panic among the student captives.

"Mr. Malfoy," Minerva said in an even tone. "You must wait before jumping to such a conclusion. When dealing with matters that involve magic, things often turn out to be different than they appear. What you saw may not have been Professor Moody at all."

"Then what is this then?" Draco held out a small sphere in his right hand.

The others did a deep intake of air. In Draco's hand was the magical eye that Mad-Eye used.

"Mad-Eye wouldn't leave his eye behind," Hermione spoke quietly, breaking the eerie moment.

"He would if he'd gone off his nut!" Draco proudly proclaimed as he pocketed the ocular orb.

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall spoke sharply. "Would you kindly shut your trap! You are only making matters more difficult, and that is the last thing we need right now!"

At the doorway of the Great Hall, Samuel Kingson appeared with the floating figure of Nearly Headless Nick alongside him. Samuel sent two of his guards to check on the secret passageway after conferring with them in hushed tones. The guards were alarmed, but made haste to verify what he'd been told.

"This is a fine mess!" Kingson hissed. "We worked hard to see to everyone's safety, and now this happens!" He looked at the teens, studying them. "Even if it is proven that squibs did not cause the band's death; we will still be blamed for it!"

"Then let us work together!" Harry insisted. McGonagall paused, for a moment before nodding her agreement.

"Harry is right," Hermione spoke up, standing closer to her boyfriend. "The teachers, students and squibs working together to solve what happened will go a long way toward cleaning up the troubles caused by your takeover. You said you want squibs to have equal rights with wizards and witches. Well, then work with us! It will help in mediation later if we are seen helping one another."

Kingson's face seemed to sour, proving more than anything that he was a close relative of Severus Snape. "There is something to what you say. However, I-"

Terence Prewett chose that moment to barrel into the room. "Hey, Sam! We've got a possible situation! It's your friend, Marge. She's not only gone treasure happy, but she's evidently lost control of her brother."

Kingson muttered under his breath. "I knew things were moving too smoothly."

"Having problems with Marge?" Harry said sarcastically. "Why am I not surprised?"

"That woman is a menace," Minerva added.

More noise and commotion could be heard coming from outside the Great Hall when a bloodied female squib came stumbling in through the doors only to be caught by one of the guards.

Kingson was there before most of the others could react. "Barbara, what happened? Have the aurors come already?"

The redheaded woman gasped as someone put some cloth over where her arm was bleeding. "No," she hissed in pain. "Not the aurors."

"Then what's happening out there?" he asked, afraid that he already knew the answer.

She looked up at him, fear etched on her face. "Death Eaters."

"We're saved!" Draco cried out, drawing even more attention from the students in the room. Some started to walk toward them only for the guards to keep them at bay, though they did let Poppy through to help the wounded squib.

Kingson cursed under his breath. "This is sure to get dicey now."

"Let us help," McGonagall again insisted.

"And I should just trust you, is that right?" he sardonically responded.

"Not all of us." Hermione took Harry's hand and held them up to show the magical cuffs that her boyfriend still wore. "Some of us you can trust. But we can't do a whole lot while wearing magical suppressing cuffs."

"Sam?" Prewett shuffled nervously on his feet, seeking some kind of guidance.

Nearly-Headless Nick bowed slightly. "I can tell you this bit of advice, in all my years of haunting Hogwarts, there are few, if any, that could matchup to Mr. Potter's honor and bravery."

Growling at himself, Samuel Kingson took the keys from one of the guards and began to undo Harry's magical inhibiting cuffs. "I must be insane for doing this."

"It won't do you any good," snarled Draco. "Potter's been drained of his magic like everyone else. A squib could fight better than him right now."

Hermione watched the inhibiting cuffs fall to the floor before pulling Harry to herself. "Draco, you know so little about magic." With that said, she turned to Harry, and kissed him fully on the lips, all the while pouring about half her magical strength into him.

They both glowed with a white light as they continued to kiss.

"What is this?" a flabbergasted Draco out cried as he backed away from the glowing teens.

Minerva let out a happy sigh, basking in the light produced by two of her favorite students. "This, Mr. Malfoy, is called '_magic_'."

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_**AUTHOR's**____**NoTeS**__**: **___

_5-24-2016_

_Next chapter, the fighting for the castle will begin! Harry, Hermione and the squibs on one side while the Death Eaters are on the other! Plus, we have to see what becomes of Vernon and Marge! As well as our two horcruxes on the move!_

_On a more personal note, well, I've had my surgery, and now just have to see how it all works out. There have been a few mishaps, but nothing detrimental. Time will tell._


	31. Chapter 31

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 31**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

Draco was trying to be as inconspicuous as any other student being kept in the Great Hall. The squibs had allowed most of the students to range freely around the Great Hall, with the notable exceptions being the exit from the Hall; second, the area where the forgotten corridor was; and lastly where they kept the more problematic prisoners, like the teachers and the Weasley twins. But now that it had been announced that the Death Eaters had come to rescue the children of Hogwarts, the squibs were keeping the students from the exit where more and more squibs were racing towards.

The squibs were fools to overlook him. He was one of the very few students to come out of initial skirmish with the squibs unscathed, though he made it look as if he had had the majority of his magic drained. He had also had the cunning to follow after Potter and Granger to see if there was any advantage to allying with them since Granger had also faked being weakened. Other than learning of the secret corridor and finding the butchered band, _The Weird Sisters_, his time with them had been useless.

"Draco Malfoy."

He turned to see who had spoken only to see that it was Luna Lovegood. "What do you want, Looney?"

"Myrtle asked me to pass a message on to you." She didn't look quite at him, but instead it was as if she were watching something in the air over his left ear. He never could understand the daft girl, or how the Sorting Hat, which had so quickly and correctly placed him in Slytherin, had placed the nitwit girl in Ravenclaw. If there were any Ravenclaw attributes in her, then he'd eat the Sorting Hat.

"Well, what is it?" he demanded.

"Oh, just that she got your message to your father by means of your family house-elf."

Draco instantly smiled. The message was somewhat late, but he still relished the fact that it was confirmed that he was the one that set their rescue in motion. His father was sure to have this all sorted out before morning. And it was he, Draco, that had arranged word to get to them. Once that was known, his house-mates in Slytherin will see the errors of their ways and respect him again. He was a Malfoy of Malfoy. No one got the better of them for long.

"I've noticed that you have an incredible infestation of wrackspurts tonight, Draco Malfoy," Luna calmly said. "At least twice the normal amount. You should avoid doing anything radical or sudden. Your judgement is going to be extremely questionable."

Draco, for his part just rolled his eyes and walked away, idly wondering if Looney was a caldron-sniffer like Crabbe, as that would explain her constantly dotty expression. It would also explain all the made-up creatures she was credited with telling anyone who would listen.

Deciding that now was probably a good a time as any, he sat in a chair and bent over somewhat to obscure what he was about to do. With one hand close to his body, Draco twisted one of the corners of the Malfoy emblem on his dress robes, activating a type of portkey few, other than his parents, knew about, that simply returned his wand to his hand. It was specially designed to transport small unliving items over a short distance, even through barriers that were supposed to be anti-portkey.

With his wand now in hand again, he let out a sigh of relief. He carefully stashed it up his dress robe sleeves. He covertly glanced around to make sure no one had noticed what he had accomplished before breathing a sigh of relief. When McGonagall hurried by toward the exit, Malfoy fell into line behind her. He had to hide his grin as the squib guards let her pass, and also him, since he was pretending to be with her.

Squibs are such stupid people, he thought to himself. His eyes darted around to see what was where, and how he could use it later. He was sure to make his father proud today.

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Amos Diggory eased around the corner of the hallway. Time was a tricky thing, and he didn't have much of it. Even so, he had coated himself liberally with _notice-me-not_ spells so that the squibs would not see him and raise the alarm. The only trouble was that for the _notice-me-not_ spells to be most effective, he had to move at a near shuffling pace. Once he was sure that a hall was clear, he and those with him hurried toward the next intersection only to slow down again. It would have been much easier if he still had his invisible cloak, but it had stopped working eight years ago, and Amos hadn't spent the many galleons to replace it. Invisibility cloaks just were not as much a necessity as it was back during the war. But the real problem was that you never really knew when you would need one.

"Amos?" came the nervous tone of one of his companions.

"It appears to be clear, Horace."

The fat Potions Master mopped at his brow with a handkerchief that was embroidered with his initials with real gold thread. "Are we almost there? That last patrol… I was sure they were going to see us in that alcove."

"Nearly there. It's midway down the hall on the right."

"Then what are we waiting for?" came the stern angry response. Narcissa stepped around the rotund figure made by Horace Slughorn. "If that is how we gain entrance, we should hurry and get there. Lucius will not be able to keep the others from out and out attacking for long."

"Follow me then." Amos hurried down the hall, bringing up memories in his head so that he would know the exact spot that led into the hidden corridor. Reaching up to a banner, he tugged lightly on a tassel which revealed a wooden door that had been under an illusion. "One of my friends and I found this in our Fourth Year," he said for an explanation.

Amos eased his eye to the edge of the door as he opened it just a hair. His sudden gasp, made the others jump, the wands at the ready. Without preamble, Amos jerked the door all the way open, heedless of their current endeavors to remain undetected.

What the others behind him now saw took their collective breaths away. It was a ghastly, gory sight but all they could do was stare in horror. The spell of the moment was somewhat undone when Narcissa started to push past Amos.

"Narcissa?" Amos automatically grabbed her arm, which caused her to freeze.

"Release me at once, Amos." Her voice was cold and hard. And more to the point it was almost always effective when used on someone who was not a Black. But Amos proved to be one of the few who could choose to stand up to her.

"I'm not sure you or Mrs. Vane should be seeing this, Narcissa."

"I'm sure that I don't want to see this," mumbled Slughorn. Somehow they had been fortunate enough to miss noticing Slughorn puking against the side of the wall, making a disgusting mini-waterfall of the foods he had consumed at the Malfoy Yule party. Fortunately, one of the other men, either Kirby Stanlee or Gerald Shuster, had seen fit to banish the puke and freshen the air.

Before them in the little used forgotten corridor that led into the Great Hall was a sight of carnage the likes of which none of them had seen since the last Wizarding war. Several bodies had been blasted and chopped apart.

"Merlin," Horace mumbled as he wiped his chins. "I didn't know squibs were capable of such…" Words seemed to fail him.

"Squibs didn't do this," Narcissa spoke just before putting a bubblehead charm on herself so she wouldn't have to smell everything. "This was caused by spell fire. The cuts are too clean for it to be otherwise. And these bodies all appear to be adults. So at least we haven't found any of the children among this morbid mess."

"Narcissa," Amos began again placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her from continuing.

Narcissa spun around to bring her wand to bare, but Amos had grabbed it before she could cast anything.

"Listen to me for two minutes, please!" he insisted.

Her glare was cold. "I will, but then I am getting my son. Nothing and no one is going to stop me."

"We are all here to get our children," Amos said in his most calming tone. "But we can't take the children past all these bodies the way they are. The children have evidently already had quite a traumatic event tonight. But to walk them past all this…" He waved at the bodies.

"And what do you propose we do then? Do you know another way to get the students out of the Great Hall that isn't the main entrance?"

Amos took a moment to cast his own bubblehead charm on himself, relieved of the cleaner air. "I still plan to bring them through here," he said as he reached into his pocket to pull out a small metal ball. "But first I need to do a few things."

He tapped the small ball with his wand, causing it to light up light a bright orange lightbulb. "Try not to look directly at the light," he said to the others, wishing he had taken his own advice. The small glowing sun slowly flew down the corridor and then back to his outstretched hand where it rested.

"My name is Amos Diggory. My companions are Narcissa Malfoy, Horace Slughorn, Emory Vane, Kirby Stanlee, and Gerald Shuster. It is the night of the Yule Ball at Hogwarts. We are standing in a long forgotten corridor that connects to the Great Hall where we found the scene before us. I am recording this because we hope to rescue the students being held captive in the Great Hall. In order to do that, we shall have to banish…, no, I will transfigure the bodies into…" His mind seemed to blank, as the very thought of transfiguring these bodies into anything else just boggled his mind.

"How about playing cards?" suggested Stanlee.

Diggory nodded in agreement and thanks. "Yes, cards will do." He let out a heavy sigh. "I hope that this evidence gathering globe will work efficiently enough, because temporarily transfiguring the bodies may damage evidence needed by the aurors. However, I can't help but believe that most, if not all, of the students would balk at escaping through here once they saw…" His other hand went out in the direction of the bodies, as words once again failed him. Taking his wand, he tapped the sphere making it go inert.

"What is that?" asked Emory.

He cleared his throat. "It's a recording device that's being experimented with by Madam Bones for use by her aurors. She asked me to try this one out to experiment with. You know, to check it for flaws. I never thought…"

"You brought a magical recording device to my Yule Ball?" It was an accusation, not a question. "What exactly were you hoping to record?"

"I've been carrying that ball for two weeks! And I've used it nine times since I've gotten it! And I've never used it without someone's permission! And 'no' I did not use it at your party."

"Merlin's beard!" Slughorn exclaimed. "That's-that's Myron Wagtail! That's his head right there!"

"There's a smashed up bagpipe over there," added Gerald Shuster. "And that used to be a guitar."

"Someone's murdered _The Weird Sisters_!" Slughorn found himself leaning heavily against the corridor wall as he took in deep breaths. Horace had known the band members quite well, and in his opinion, he had been paramount in introducing them to the people needed to getting their musical career going. He'd received several front row seat tickets from the band over the years, most of which he passed on to other people he considered to be the next up and coming in the Wizarding world.

Amos quickly put bubblehead charms over the rest of the group who evidently didn't know or remember the charm. He added a little mint to help them not dwell on what they had been smelling. Only then did Amos return his attention back to Narcissa. "We don't have much time. I will transform the bodies and whatever else that may be of use by the aurors, but we are going to have to banish the blood and whatever small body parts that I wasn't able to get. Can you help me with that? We need to be ready for when the squibs realize that your husband and the others are coming their way."

She gave a hesitant nod, much to his relief. "I'll freshen the air, too. It smells like a slaughterhouse in here."

A thankful Amos Diggory could only nod. He hoped his son was safely in the Great Hall. He hoped he could bring him and all the others to safety. Even so, he knew that plans never survived the battlefield. He hoped that whatever did go wrong would not be detrimental. With that, he began to focus on his transfiguration of the dead.

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**Near The Entrance To The Great Hall**

Lucius Malfoy was livid. Not with the uppity squibs. He was still angry with the squibs, but it was his own people that had him outraged. The majority of the people that had joined him to confront the squibs were former Death Eaters. They had never been the best trained, but they knew to do what they were told. Or else. Unfortunately, some had forgotten the '_Or else_' part of the equation.

He growled. Oh how he hated having to repeat simple instructions to someone. Especially when he wasn't able to currently hex them for their stupidity.

They had been slowly moving down the hall, giving Diggory and his group the time they needed to get into position to rescue the hostages. They were to wait to engage the squibs, their task to see how many they were and what types of weapons did they use. He had not anticipated that Thorfinn Rowle and Walden Macnair would fire their wands off immediately upon seeing squib guards, killing one and injuring two others. Even worse that the Carrow twins, Atoxica Zambini, Goyle and Crabbe would join the fray.

Even worse, they hadn't even made it halfway to the Great Hall, and now they were already involved in a battle with the strangest types of weapons he'd even seen. While the message that had been delivered to him told of a gel that the squibs used to suck out magic from wizards and witches, it was one thing to hear, it was another altogether to experience firsthand.

Crabbe was passed out from magical exhaustion in the middle of the corridor, and covered in glowing gel pellets that the squibs had shot him with. Malfoy himself had been splattered in the face when one pellet hit the wall next to him. He had felt the pull on his magic, and it was terrifying. He'd torn off part of his sleeve and wiped his face faster than he had ever done at any other time in his life. The splatter on the castle wall continued to glow as it sucked magic out of the very stones. Only once it reached its peak capacity, did the gel go inert and turn into a grayish powder that flaked off.

The squibs also appeared to be better organized. There were reinforcements racing up to replace the wounded, and house-elves popping about to take the wounded squibs away.

Allon Greengrass, Peter Parkinson, and Chlamydia Blishwick were giving a good account of themselves, which surprised Lucius, since they had not been Death Eaters. Blishwick's curses were darker than he had expected, and he would definitely be keeping a wary eye on her in the future. Judas Avery, though, having seen the effect of squib weapons, had turned and fled. Lucius made a promise to himself that he would be looking in on Avery later with some of the others for deserting them and their children.

Lucius was using a large stone block pulled out of the very castle floor as a barrier. He had planned on using it as a floating shield so that he could get closer to the ranks of the squibs, but they had soon pelted his shield with their gel pellets, and it fell in front of him. He'd been lucky that it hadn't tipped over on top of him. He'd tried to move the stone again, but the gel was not allowing him to do so using magic. Despite not being able to use the shield to precede forward, several of those behind him had choose to pull up a stone to use as a protective shield as well. Goyle had gone a step beyond that, and was using some of the stones he pulled out of the floor and sending them hurdling toward the squibs.

Lucius did have to give Thorfinn Rowle a warning glare when the wizard began hurling gut-expelling curses toward the squibs. No, that would not have been something that Ministry would have been forgiving about if someone had decided to report Rowle. But that was the price of being high-upstanding members of the community: they always had to consider the political ramification of their actions. That is, if they were caught.

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On the staircase, Marcus Flint and Crouch Jr., along with the two horcrux pieces that were inhabiting their bodies, stood and stared at the unusual battle going on below them.

"These aren't aurors; why are they fighting the squibs instead of the damn aurors who are actually paid to put their lives at risk?" asked the diary-horcrux whose facial construct was on Marcus Flint's right breast region.

"They're parents," Marcus blurted out. "That's my father over there. Titus Flint. He was one of your Death Eaters."

"Many of them _were_," Barty Crouch Jr. said scathingly. "As soon as you were killed, those down there all abandoned you, claiming that you had held them under the _Imperious_ curse. Most paid huge bribes so they could skip having to go to Azkaban along with your most loyal Death Eaters. We should just abandon them like they abandoned you!" He shook with cold fury, and it was all that could do to keep from firing down on those that had abandoned their Dark Lord.

Marcus was not happy with that. "That's my father down there! I may not know all the reasons he did whatever he did to stay out of Azkaban, but his doing so left him in a better position to help my lord now that he's returning."

"Cease your prattling, you two!" demanded the diadem-horcrux that had it's face on Crouch's right shoulder like something in a Salvador Dali painting. "What are your thoughts?" he asked his fellow horcrux.

The diary-horcrux pondered for a moment. "I'm thinking that this would be a great opportunity to escape the castle undetected. But on the other hand, this could also be a better opportunity to deliver our coup in the ministry."

"Tell me what you mean?" asked the other horcrux.

"It's simple, really. Your man Crouch said that the squibs had rendered Dumbledore helpless. I say we could go down there right now and kill him. No more would Dumbledore be a threat to us."

"Not just Dumbledore," said the diadem horcrux. "There is the Potter brat who is said to have stolen our title of Lord Slytherin. And also that Dursley woman and her son who laid claim to the Ravenclaw lineage. With them all dead, no one else can lay claim to Hogwarts besides us!"

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Just above them, looking down, Vernon Dursley had heard more than enough. No one was going to hurt his family. He would deny them getting vengeance on his nephew, too, if it came to that.

"Winky," he said to the shaking house-elf standing next to him. "I need you to go to Petunia and Dudley. Get them safe. Get them out of here if you have to."

The female house-elf regarded him with her big wide-eyes before nodding and disappearing with a cracking sound.

Walking up to the nearest suit of armor, Vernon reached for it's mace only for it to be suddenly handed to him by the empty metal suit.

Vernon nearly dropped the mace in surprise, but managed to hold on. He didn't have time to rationalize everything if he was going to save his wife and son.

"You," he said quietly to the empty suit of armor. "You have to do what I say, right? I am still regent here, right?"

The empty suit of armor nodded.

Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. "So if I told you and all the other suits of armor in the castle to attack the two men on the stairs who are threatening my family, you'd do it?"

The empty suit of armor nodded again.

"Then go do it already!"

The suit of armor, as well as all the others in the castle suddenly came to attention, then stepped out away from the wall and preceded to quick march toward the two unsuspecting horcruxes and their hosts.

Vernon stood there for a moment, breathing a temporary sigh of relief that he had at least done something right. He looked down at his hands and was surprised to see that he still had the mace. Gripping the handle tightly, he decided to go and give a better account of himself. It would surely make more of an impact than the Smelting stick he used in his youth. He was determined to find out either way.

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Lucius Malfoy ducked his head back under cover. Behind him, the sounds Gibbon was making indicated that the man hadn't been as lucky.

But the real surprise was that he had had to duck due to spell fire coming from the squibs in the first place. Some wizard or witch was fighting on the side of the squibs!

Gibbon was making continuous retching sounds, making Lucius glance back to seeing him throwing up a large slug onto a pile of other slugs. And while Lucius agreed that it was unfortunate and disgusting, it also led to the conclusion that whoever was throwing curses at them wasn't using anything lethal so they at least had that much going for them.

"It's that damn Potter brat!" bellowed Macnair. "He's sided with the bloody squibs!"

This came as a surprise to Lucius. Not that he wouldn't exploit such an action in the Wizengamot to gain support against the growing evil influences of the muggle world. Peeking over his barricade, he was delighted to see that it was true. The bloody Boy-Who-Lived was defending the squibs that were holding the Hogwarts children hostage! And there was that mudblood that he had become romantic with fighting alongside him!

Malfoy knew that there could be other reasons as to why Potter and his mudblood were defending the squibs. They didn't matter to him. Here was a clear excuse to cleanly kill the blasted boy down and be made a hero in doing so.

He was just about to leap up and cast a chain of spells at the two brats when the stone he was using as a shield was suddenly hit with what he could only suppose was lightning. Several chucks of his protective barrier had fallen away, including a large chuck at the top.

"Bloody hell!" he muttered. He had speculated about the rumors that Potter had somehow increased his magical strength multifold, but even so, he shouldn't be ready to learn these types of spells that require such great power and precision.

There was a flash of water that sprayed down on like a firehose that caught Thorfinn Rowle and sent him flying backwards. The spray turned and caught Larry Stooge, washing him away, and nearly got another person to. To his surprise, Lucius saw that the person shooting water at them was none other than Minerva McGonagall.

Looking back at those who had come with him, he was shocked to see house-elves raining down bedpans filled with who-knows-what onto Alecto and Amycus Carrow, and a few others that were unfortunate to be near them.

"What in hades is going on here?" demanded Yaxley, wiping some of the filth that had gotten the Carrows off his face. Next to him was Peter Parkinson, who had somehow managed to remain unscathed.

"Should we try talking to them?"

Lucius growled as his response, and Parkinson backed down, wishing he'd stood up to his wife and sent their daughter to a magical school in America.

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"Harry! No more lightning!" admonished Hermione. "Those spells are power suckers. You just got the magical inhibiting cuffs off. You need to let your magical core recharge. Even at the rate you recharge, you won't be able to fight them long if you waste all your energy."

Harry was doing everything he could to not appear to be weaving on his feet. "Right. Simpler spells from now on. Skill over power."

Hermione had been a true godsend. She had been one of the few to hide the fact that she hadn't had her magic drained from her. And once Harry's cuffs had been removed, she had wasted no time in channeling half of her own magic through a kiss into him.

They hadn't been able to make much of the light show that had occurred during their kiss, but it had been extremely enjoyable.

They had been given their wands by Kingson, and surprisingly Luna had joined them having retrieved her wand somehow on her own.

For the most part, Hermione provided shield coverage when needed. Luna was attending and helping to move the wounded squibs. One of the Death Eaters took exception to her kindness and targeted her. Luna easily stepped out of harm's way almost intuitively, only to fire one hex back which hit the startled person, turning their arms into giant butterfly wings.

Somehow, during all this chaos, the fighting hit a lull when everyone's attention was suddenly drawn to an impromptu battle by two strange individuals and several suits of magically animated armor, all on the staircase one level above them.

"Hey," called out Goyle. "Doesn't that look like Barty Jr. up there? But he's dead, ain't he?"

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Somehow the clunking suits of armor had snuck up on them. Barty was still running low on power, so he let Marcus (_guided by the diary-horcrux_) take on most of the metallic defenders of Hogwarts.

Slags of metal were being sent spinning off into the distance. In a few cases, portraits started on fire, leaving their occupants to run screaming from their flaming frames. The house-elves saved what they could, but even they couldn't be everywhere.

More and more suits of armor came down the steps like mindless automatons only focused on their prescribed duty.

"We have to go down the stairs!" the diadem-horcrux shouted before using the _Wingardium Leviosa_ Levitation charm to pick one of the empty suits of armor and use it as a battering ram to knock several others over. The only trouble being is that once the suits fell, they started to roll down the staircase toward them.

The diary-horcrux used Marcus to create a small seven-foot-tall brick barricade blocking the stairway from any more of the attacking suits of armor. "The bloody damn things were never going to stop coming."

"Yes," grumbled the other horcrux. "And now we've been noticed for sure."

Suits of armor began to strike the brick wall with their weapons, but so far to no effect.

The two horcruxes and their hosts looked down at the stilled battle scene below them. "Bollox," muttered Marcus.

"Son, is that you?" called out a voice.

Marcus leaned further over the stone railing. "Dad?"

"Marcus, what are you doing up there, son?" asked Titus Flint.

"Dad, you won't believe it! I'm helping-"

Marcus found himself unable to talk any further. The horcrux was not about to let the idiot teen reveal his secret.

"Speak up, Marcus! And well you are at it, why do you have a face tattooed onto your chest?"

"Bloody hell!" shouted Thorfinn Rowle. "That thing on his chest looks just like the Dark Lord's face!"

"I am not a tattoo!" admonished the furious diary-horcrux.

"Hellfire! Is that thing alive?" someone exclaimed, though no one knew who since they were all staring at the livid face on younger Flint's chest.

"No," Lucius said so softly that no one could hear. And he wasn't the only one to do so. Many of the former Death Eaters had made a better life for themselves in the last decade. As exciting and debaucherous as the old days were, few wanted to actually go back to them. But none dared to oppose the Dark Lord if he had actually managed to return from the dead like he said he would.

They had had some warning that he might be returning when the dark marks on their arms had started to return. Yaxley, two months prior, had speculated with a group of former Death Eaters one night at _The Burned Bum_, a seedy dive deep in Knockturn Alley, that one of their fellow Death Eaters must have been experimenting on what remained of their own dark mark, whether it was to remove it or to try become the next Dark Lord by taking over command of the remaining Death Eaters that were already marked. Rowle wanted to blame the Unspeakables for messing around with someone's dark mark. No one had any other speculations, so they just drank the rest of evening and speculated who was the idiot who was trying to upturn their lives. …and now they had their answer.

"I am your master returned to life!" shouted the diary-horcrux, reveling in revealing himself to his dedicated peons, and Marcus Flint standing proudly, bearing the facial construct on his chest.

"Don't you mean, '_we__ are your master returned to life_'?" The diadem-horcrux was not happy to be overlooked.

"Merlin's beard! There's two of him!" someone shouted from below.

"Fine," grumbled the younger Tom. He then raised his voice for those below to hear while he locked eyes with Harry Potter. "Harry Potter, you thought you destroyed me down in the Chamber of Secrets! But I survived! I will always survive! And now, tonight, I will be your undoing!" He looked down to where the Death Eaters were staring up at him. "Listen and obey, my servants! Your Lord Voldemort is on the rise again! Strike down these damnable squibs! Kill Potter and everyone named Dursley! Tonight we begin the takeover of-"

The horcrux sharing the body of Marcus Flint was interrupted when someone leapt down from above down onto him, knocking them both over the bannister of the staircase.

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Harry had been caught off guard when Riddle had revealed himself. He was even more surprised when the face-thing said that he was actually the memory of the teenage Riddle that had been left inside the diary that had commanded the basilisk and about to kill Ginny Weasley. But the most surprising thing was when he saw his uncle Vernon leap over the railing from a floor above Marcus and the other fellow on the stairs, swinging a medieval mace, tackling Marcus, crushing the semi-possessed teen against the unforgiving stone banister, causing both him and Marcus to flip over and into the air. Quicker than anyone could think to perform a levitation spell, the two bodies meet the castle floor.

Somewhere behind him, Harry could hear Dudley shout for his dad. One of the squibs closest to the fallen pair looked unsure if he dared to check on them while being totally exposed.

The choice was taken from him when a large dark cloud poured out of one of the bodies and formed above them.

"You think you could defeat me by killing off my host? You fools! Death means nothing to me now! I am the true Eater of Death! And I will rule you all! There is nothing anyone can do to stop me!"

Harry raised his wand defiantly. "_Expecto Patronum!_"

The white cloud that shot out of his wand grew larger and larger as it began to take on the shape of the hybrid basilisk/phoenix form he had transformed into during the First Task of the Tri-Wizarding Tournament.

The patronus had a snake-like body nearly eight feet long, but with phoenix wings and two clawed bird legs. The hybrid patronus coiled its serpentine body together as it stared down at the horcrux cloud.

"What in hades is that?" The last thing the horcrux cloud did when the unique patronus sprang at him with it's mouth open and teeth bared was scream like a little girl. The painful howling emitted from the dark mass when they collided lasted less than ten seconds before the it dissipated into nothing. The patronus winged around in the air as if sensing another threat. It turned to face Barty Crouch Jr. who had the diadem-horcrux inside him.

Crouch and the horcrux on his shoulder swore at the same time, as the basilisk/phoenix prepared to strike at them, but suddenly and unexpectedly faded away instead.

Below, Harry practically collapsed from the effort of maintaining the existence of his patronus. Hermione and Kingson managed to hold him up. The leader of the squibs stared down at the young man, unsure what to make of him. But he did know he wanted him to be on his side.

Hermione turned him around quickly to check his back, fearing that he had ruptured his magical core again. After patting all over his back, she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that Harry was just suffering from magical exhaustion. Holding his face with both of her hands, she concentrated on pushing some of her remaining magic into Harry to help him recover.

Titus Flint had rushed over to his son, uncaring as to what could happen to his own self. He struggled to pull at the large, fat man that was crushing his only male offspring. Vernon Dursley was a massive lump that proved impossible to move so Titus stepped back and brought out his wand. Before he could use it, however, Dudley had charged forward, performing an excellent example of an American Football tackle, pounding Titus hard into the stone floor, where the Death Eater broke his arm, shattered his hip, and knocked his head so hard he couldn't see straight.

Once Dudley was sure that the man was down for good, he took the man's wand, and hurried to where his father lay on top of the dead formerly possessed Slytherin teen. "Dad? Dad? Can you hear me, dad?"

Somewhere in the background, Dudley could hear his mother frantically calling for him and his dad. Dudley quickly determined that this lull in the fighting probably wasn't going to last very long, so he needed to get his father out of there the quicker the better. Using the Death Eater's wand, Dudley used some of the little magic he had to performing the levitation spell. It wasn't until his third time at shouting "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" that the spell started to take effect, lifting his father into the air.

Dudley felt like he was going to puke. Not just from using what little magic he had inside him, but mostly from seeing the twisted broken state of Marcus Flint, who had a mace smashed into where the extra face had been on Flint's body.

There was a crack next to him that almost made him drop his father.

"Winky can help Master Dursley," said the house-elf, who easily took the burden from Dudley.

"Son?" came the barely heard word of Vernon Dursley.

"Dad?"

Vernon groaned but couldn't lift his head or move any other part of his body. "I messed up," he wheezed. "Don't trust Marge. Keep away from her, son. She… she's bad. And would only take from you. Always was… a greedy bitch."

"Dad, you are going to be all right. They-they have magic to fix things. They can fix you."

"Take care… your…mother." He coughed, causing some blood to spray around his mouth. "Proud of-" He was overtaken by another cough. "Love y-." With that, he sighed and was gone.

Winky lowered her head while Dudley just cried. Somewhere, further off, Petunia could be heard wailing tragically, as she was being held back by a squib guard and one of the Seventh Year students.

The diadem-horcrux was taking quick stock of his situation. Whatever it was that the Potter hellspawn had done, it had destroyed his brother horcrux. And those damn uppity squibs were armed with something that took away magic, which means it was something that could potentially kill him, too. And that was something that he could not allow to happen. To make matters worse, the damn suits of armor were very near to tearing down that brick barricade that kept them from attacking him.

He had no choice. With his host, Crouch, at such low strength, he would have to flee. And the only way open for him was down the staircase.

He had almost made it to the ground level where everyone else was when someone began firing those pellets at him. Fortunately, their aim was terrible. Crouch raised his wand that created a wind barrier around him, hopefully it would be strong enough to keep any of the paintball gel-filled pellets from scoring a hit on him. Crouch hurried around the scene of Marcus Flint's broken body, as well as that of his father, just a few feet away.

The horcrux drew in a deep breath as he prepared to address his minions. "My Death Eaters, our reunion is not happening under the best of conditions."

The mind of Lucius Malfoy was quickly connecting the dots. At first, he had been unsure what to make of the two facial constructs on Flint and Crouch's bodies. But when the one worn by young Marcus had spoke of Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, he knew that the diary he had once slipped to the Weasley girl was involved. And then it had come to him – something that he had read about in a grimoire he'd purchased at _Borgin And Burkes_ from a long dead family line. There inside its pages was mention of a ritual involving ritualistic murder in order to tear off a part of their own soul to be placed in an item of importance to him or her, thereby making it impossible for that person to cross over completely into the land of the dead. And while it wasn't spoken of much, it was pretty much common knowledge that the Dark Lord was determined to find a way to become immortal. A horcrux. And the Dark Lord evidently made more than one. And probably more than two or three. No wonder he acted so depraved and maniacal most of the time.

A shiver when down Malfoy's spine. Was there no way they would be free from serving this monstrous madman? Lucius, and he was sure most of the other former Death Eaters, preferred the lives they had now, and didn't want to return to fighting the Dark Lord's war again. Sure, a few of them along with himself had paraded around in their old Death Eater uniforms after the Quidditch Tournament. But that had been mostly about fun, and reminding the mudbloods of their place in the Wizarding world.

Lucius was suddenly aware that the eyes of the other Death Eaters were upon him. Damn them. Didn't they know that they had no choice with the Dark Lord's mark on their arm? So, carefully schooling his features, Lucius Malfoy slowly bent his knee to the horcrus-possessed man. Behind him, the other Death Eaters followed his example, and also knelt before the possessed Crouch.

Among the kneeing Death Eaters, the majority of party guest from the Malfoy Yule Ball that had no ties to the Dark Lord and were only there to rescue their children from the squibs, began backing away in horror. Allon Greengrass stopped only for a moment to pull a shocked Chlamydia Blishwick away from the revealed Death Eaters. Peter Parkinson also slipped away into the shadows, unwilling to have his name tied to those that have done so much damage to the Wizarding world. When it would all be said and done this time, there would be no hiding behind claims of the _Imperius Curse_.

Hermione was the first to snap out of her shock in order to act. She fired off two _Incarcerous_ spells in succession. The first rope that shot out of her wand tied up Barty Crouch. The second went to Lucius Malfoy, catching him by surprise, and almost caused him to tip over.

The open area became a war zone again. Samuel Kingson was nearly beheaded by a spell cast by Fester Nott, and would have been if it hadn't been for the reflexes of one of Kingson's body guards. Atoxica Zabini was casting a testicular-exploding curses with devastating effect until she mistakenly cast it on a bundled up squib guard who had turned out to be female and thus was unaffected. Said female painted Atoxica's head with paintball gel pellets, rendering the vengeful witch powerless, blind, and out of the fight.

All through this, the diadem-horcrux was screaming for the Death Eaters to kill the bloody Squibs, and for someone to free him. If he hadn't felt so weak, he would have used Crouch's magical core to just burst the ropes around him for a dramatic affect. But this was not the case currently, so Barty Crouch was trying to hop toward his fellow Death Eaters while veering away from shots happening around him. Before he did get to cover, one of the squibs was able to get a lucky enough shot to hit him several times in the back which sent him crashing forward. Crouch broke his cheek bone but was otherwise unhurt. The gel from the pellets themselves were ineffective since it could not penetrate his leather jacket.

Hermione was terribly distracted. She not only had to keep from being cursed from the Death Eaters, but she had to protect Harry, who looked extremely weak. Which is how she had been unprepared for the floor exploding behind her, that sent her and Harry rolling across the floor toward the Death Eaters.

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**_AUTHOR's_** **_NoTeS: _******

_6-13-2016_

_Well it's been a more action packed chapter than I normally do. Hopefully it meets with people's satisfaction. _

_I had always planned for Vernon to die. I tried to make him as real as I possibly could. Yes, he loves his family, but he's still a bully and something of a monster. Anyone who could treat a kid like Harry the way he has, has little chance of changing. And while I gave Petunia and Dudley the chance to change do to them being influenced by magic rods Dumbledore had put in them, Vernon did his hating all on his own. Even so, even people like that can go to drastic lengths to save their loved ones, which is why I had him sacrifice himself._

_As for my surgery, I seem to be doing better with much of the pain being blocked. Walking a lot is still a challenge, and will be put to the test since next week my family is flying out of state for my brother-in-law's wedding. I should be a good time, though the weather is going to be hot, hot, hot!_


	32. Chapter 32

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 32**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

Everyone was caught off guard from the explosion that had occurred right behind Harry and Hermione, sending them skidding across the stone floor and towards the Death Eaters.

Everyone then looked to the source of the explosion. Draco Malfoy stood brandishing his wand, fury etched on his face. "You dare to attack my father?! You stupid mudblood!" He cast another spell, this one throwing back everyone away from him.

In the disarray, Draco raced back towards his father, sending a spell to free his father from the ropes the Granger had bound him with. For added measure, he sent two _Incarcerous_ spells at Hermione and Harry. Both of the teens were bound up within two seconds.

Draco had almost gotten to the ranks of the Death Eaters when the first of the squibs opened fire with their paintball guns. Fortunately, he had a good understanding of how the magic sucking gel worked, and was ducked down with his robes pulled up so it was covering the majority of his head and hands, giving the gel no skin contact.

Spells, paintball pellets and shouts filled the area again. Reece Yaxley took the confusion as an opportunity to quickly levitate Barty Crouch Jr. over to him behind his refuge of a broken gargoyle before freeing the Dark Lord from the ropes around him.

"Ahou time!" Crouch complained, his broken cheek bone hindering his speech.

The horcrux from the diadem protruding from Crouch's right shoulder growled in anger. "Wand me, Yaxley!" He recognized this older version of Yaxley from his memories of slowly cultivating Yaxley as a potential Death Eater back when they were attending Hogwarts. Evidently his effort had born fruit as the man Yaxley had grown to become was now a devout servant.

Yaxley knelt down and swiftly removed the three extra wands he had stashed to his leg. Adding his own wand to the mix, he held up the four wands for his master to select the one that best worked with his magical core. The diadem-horcrux pulsed his magic through each wand, finally settling on one of Yaxley's spare wands, one that was made from a Whomping Willow with crushed redcap teeth for it's core. Definitely not an Ollivander wand, but perfect for hexing and cursing. Even better, a wand attuned to his core would tax him less as less energy would be needed. And if there was one thing the diadem-horcrux was very away of, it was that he had very little to work with until he could recharge.

"Now mend Barty's cheek bone. It's best to have him at his best in this conflict."

Barty glowered at Yaxley. In Barty's eyes, Yaxley was still a betrayer of their lord's trust, having been one of several Death Eaters that had claimed to have been under the _Imperious_ curse once their lord had disappeared that long ago Halloween. However, all the _true, loyal_ Death Eaters were all still imprisoned in Azkaban. And his master currently had a use for these disloyal scum, but he was sure that there would be a day in the near future when Crouch would watch his master punish the traitors. Maybe Crouch would even be allowed to help punish them.

Yaxley was quick to mend Crouch, not wanting to look at the maniacal eyes glaring at him. "That's done. I've added a mild numbing-"

"Less talking and more fighting!" demanded the Dark Lord. Yaxley almost stumbled out into the open in his surprise and haste to comply.

Alecto Carrow had cast the summoning charm on Granger; Thorfinn Rowle did likewise with Potter so that both teens were now hostages of the Death Eaters.

"This night just gets better and better," chuckled Rowle. "First we get to fire on a bunch of squibs, then our Dark Lord returns to us, and now the poster child of the light falls right into our hands."

Harry was only mildly aware of what was happening. His ears were still ringing from the explosion, and his head had hit the stone floor more than once. He did know enough to realize that he was not where he wanted to be, and that he couldn't move his arms for some reason. He was also relatively certain that the person leering down at him was not a good person.

"Create wind to throw off their aim!" Draco advised everyone with his shout. Soon, several wands were sending gales of wind at the squibs, causing their paintball pellets to go off target, some even flying back and hitting them instead.

Lucius pulled his son down to him, so he could look directly at him. There were many things he wanted to say. But his son had committed himself to joining his father. There would be no turning around for him. There would be no rest until the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters had taken over the Ministry. There would be many battles, and even more deaths in their future. And once the Wizarding world was aware that all those that had pleaded being under the _Imperious_ were returning to the Dark Lord, no Death Eater would be able to return to their home to rest and recuperate for the next battle. They would have to succeed or be wanted fugitives for the rest of their lives. None of which he wanted his son to experience. But the die was cast, and he had to make due with it. "I'm proud of you, son," he chose to say.

For his part, Draco was clueless as to the inner struggle his dad was undergoing, but he did preen at being praised, and even blushed a might. "I just saw red when Granger roped you up. I just had to act."

Lucius nodded. Draco could be such a Gryffindor at times. If it wasn't for the fact that the Sorting Hat had to sort certain children into that House that their family resided in, Lucius believed that Draco could very well have ended up in the House of the Leaping-Before-They-Look Gryffindors.

"I shall have a word with the Dark Lord," he addressed his son. "I want you to guard the prisoners."

"I can fight!" Draco protested.

"Not like this!" snapped his father. "You have never fought like we have! So you will guard the prisoners, thereby freeing up the wands of those who truly know how to fight!"

The words stung. Draco felt as if he had been betrayed, but turned away to do as his father told him before any hint of a tear could be seen.

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Minerva was trying to counter the various gusts of wind being sent through the castle by the Death Eaters since it was undermining the squibs ability to fight. She was surprised at how well the wand she had taken from Dumbledore had worked for her. While she was exhausted from the magic draining attack of the squibs earlier, this elder wood wand seemed to give her spells more power than they should have with her being so tired. Even with that going for her, her reflexes were not the best as she felt like she had just competed against all four dragons in the first competition of the Tri-Wizarding Tournament.

"You are wearing yourself out."

Ducking down behind the brick barricade she had created. She was surprised to see that the squib leader, Samuel Kingson, was taking the time during the battle to address her. "I still have some strength in me," she argued.

"But not for long at this rate," he pointed out.

She could not argue that, and lowered her wand as she took a moment to lean against the cool wall in the alcove. The brick wall she had made to one side buckled under spell fire, but she simply repaired it with a flick of her wand. "This night was supposed to be so special for so many," she murmured to herself.

"Sorry about that," Kingson managed to apologize. Whether he meant it or not, Minerva had no clue. He had been trying to force the magical world to recognize and give rights for the neglected, and oft time persecuted, squibs. And even she had to admit that the squibs had worked hard to make sure there were no fatalities or serious injuries. "I need you to talk to Petunia. She is still Lady Ravenclaw. She can call on the aid of the ghosts and the Hogwarts house-elves."

Back near the doorway where she had first talked with Kingson, the conference room where Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Percy Weasley, and Delores Umbridge were still being kept as prisoners, Kingson and McGonagall watched as Winky levitated Vernon Dursley's body inside followed by a weeping Petunia and Dudley.

Minerva nodded wearily. It had been a while since she had had to console anyone. It had happened all too often during the last war, and she hoped with the bizarre return of Voldemort wouldn't see more of it. Kingson was right that Petunia would respond better to her than to any of his people. "I'll see what I can do."

Exhaustion was starting to set in again. A squib-owned house-elf cleared a way for her to the conference room, with two other house-elves providing the necessary cover for the slow moving woman.

Inside the room, was confusion and rising tempers. The only one at peace was Percy Weasley who was unconscious and bound to a hospital bed that someone had brought in.

Delores Umbridge, still bound to her chair was demanding to know what was going on out of the room, and insisted that they remove the fat, dead muggle from the room. Fortunately, she was still under a silencing spell, though a weak one, that was starting to lift, making her sound as if she were speaking in a polite whisper when in reality she was yelling her head off.

Next to her was Albus Dumbledore. The elderly wizard had never looked so old and grey before. And now with the sight of Vernon Dursley's broken body, the old wizard began to openly weep, as he began to mentally recount all the manipulations he had put into place that he affected the muggle. True, Vernon was a vile person all on his own. But Dumbledore had manipulated the personalities of his wife and son, not only making them leery of magic due to the conspiracy of the Hogwarts headmasters keeping the heirs of the founders from being aware of their heritage, but by placing a young Harry with them, they had focused their magically influence biased onto him. Dumbledore had truly undermined that family and here was the results of it all.

On the other side of the headmaster, the school's potions master, Severus Snape was intently taking everything in. He'd only heard scrapes of conversation, but one that filled him with dread was someone bringing up the Dark Lord. It was no secret among the former Death Eaters that the dark marks that they bore on their arms was losing its faded appearance. While many had put together possibilities as to what was happening, few stressed that it meant the return of Lord Voldemort. That more than anything else made him want to escape from this room so that he could find out what the hell was going on. Fortunately, he was somewhat adept at escaping. He had several wands, knives and various objects hidden on his person due to his paranoia. He'd managed to get one of his hands to one of the blades and had been slowly cutting through the rope binding him for almost ten minutes now.

Snape's eyes followed Minerva as she came into the room, barely giving the bound witch and wizards a glance, and moved to where Petunia was, allowing Lily's sister to cry uncontrollably into her shoulder. She reached up with her spare hand to Dudley's shoulder. The teen took a moment to register the hand, but then saw his mother and snapped out of his stupor. He came to his mother's side and hugged her as he, too, cried.

When Petunia started to wind down, Winky was there to offer her something to wipe her face, and presented Minerva with a pepper-up potion, as the house-elf instinctively knew how tired the Deputy Headmistress must be.

"Petunia?" Minerva said, hesitantly, after taking a large drink of the pepper-up potion. "I'm sorry, but the Hogwarts house-elves need your permission to go against the Death Eaters."

"Why? Why is all this happening?" Petunia managed to say as she wiped her face.

Minerva lowered her eyes. "In part, it is two different neglected problems in the British Ministry ramming into each other." And it was true. The Death Eaters should never have been allowed to buy their freedom with lies and escape justice. Thus enabling them to continuing to hinder the political environment of the British Ministry. Also, society as a whole should never have allowed the neglect and abuse of Squibs, which directly led to their rising up to force a decision in the matter. Neither of those two things mattered to Petunia right now. She had been made a widow and her son an orphan.

"Petunia, please," Minerva tried again.

Petunia let out a faltering breath. She partially wanted to tell the Wizarding world to go to hell. But she supposed supporting the squibs could also be considered revenge. Glancing down, she met the gaze of the meek, little Winky. "Winky, please tell the Hogwarts house-elves to help crush the Death Eaters."

Winky twisted her ears slightly. "Hogwarts house-elves is not allowed to be fighting wizards and witches. Not directly at least." She glanced away for a moment before responding again. "Also is squibs'es house-elves is having been making much trouble for the dark marked ones, so's dark marked ones has been placing anti-house-elf wards around themselves to keep house-elves away."

Minerva nodded. "Just tell them to do what they can to help, Winky."

Winky halted for a moment until Petunia nodded to her, so the house-elf popped away.

Petunia sat by her dead husband and took his bloody hand. With the small towel that Winky had given her, she began to wipe away some of the blood on his hand. Then gave up and started crying again.

Dudley nudged Minerva to catch her eye. His eyes were red, and his face weary, but there was a steadfastness in him that made him look much older than he had been this morning. "Go," he said. "I have this. You are needed more out there."

She gave Petunia's shoulder a slight squeeze, then slowly began making her way out of the room.

It almost gave her a start when she heard the fatigued voice of Albus Dumbledore.

"Is it wise to be collaborating with the squibs who took the school hostage?"

McGonagall's glare was cold, and reminded him of a particular teacher that he had when he was a student that had given him nightmares. "You are a fine one to talk, Albus. I know about the repressing rods you used on Harry, as well as on Petunia and Dudley.

Shock followed by guilt flew across his face, as if he had been slapped in the face. "If was for the greater good, Minerva."

"Rubbish!" she snapped. "It was you trying to control everything to your liking, just like Grindewald when he experimented with them on prisoners during the war of the continient!" She could feel her anger making her feel more energetic. "I know you used to know each other when you were younger, so tell me the truth, did you invent the repressing rods with Grindewald?"

Albus was now looking green. "It… it was all theoretical when we were together. I didn't know he had actually been able to make one. Hearing about how Gellert was actually conditioning people in his medical experimentation camps was the main reason I finally joined the fight against him." He hung his head, no longer able to meet the gaze of her tearing eyes. "Once he was defeated, I felt I had to not let all those experiments been for nothing, but at the same time I couldn't trust anyone to not misuse the rods. So I took them."

"And then you used them on Harry and his family? How was that a good thing?" she demanded.

Albus shook his weary head. "I had my reasons. Most of which I now know to have been wrong. But I shall not go into that here."

Both Snape and Umbridge had been very still as they eavesdropped on the headmaster and his deputy. Minerva knew that she wouldn't be getting anything else out of Albus today. "We will be discussing this fully later, old man," she said with a growl.

Terence Prewett, the squib relative of the Weasleys', hurried in. "Professor McGonagall? I'm sorry, I know you are exhausted, but we really need you."

She sighed, wearily. "I thought you could handle the wind for a time."

The redheaded man nodded, sparing only a glance to his relative, Percy Weasley, on the hospital bed. "Yes, well, that was before the Death Eaters started to make it rain serpents."

"Oh bollox," she muttered. She quickly followed after Prewett, not sparing a glance back at Dumbledore or Snape. Dudley, seeing her go, asked a nearby house-elf for a pepper-up potion, then down the drink as fast as he could as he went after her.

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Luna was busy vanishing serpents of all types back to wherever they came from. Fortunately, she was better at aiming her wand than most wizards and witches. It was almost like a game. And a very deadly game at that. All she had to do was vanish the vipers before they got to her. It was difficult to hit the snakes when the wind was carrying them through the air, twisting all about to find some purchase to catch themselves on before hitting the hard, cold, stone floor of the castle. Two unlucky squibs had airborne snakes land on top of them. A five-foot long anaconda managed to start wrapping itself around the squib, but Luna was able to vanish it before it could do anything more than frighten and take the wind out of the young man. The other snake, a copperhead, had almost instantly bit the older female squib in the neck, killing her within seconds.

Neville had taken to covering Luna's right side, using a beaters bat that he had found somewhere to bash any snakes that looked like they would get to her by surprise, especially the airborne snakes. On Luna's left side was Viktor Krum, smashing snakes for all he was worth. While he was too weak to use his magic, he still could use what remained of the strength in his limbs.

Fred and George, while depleted of most of their magic when they fought the squibs, were able to direct several house-elves in how to use some of the pranking items that had been confiscated from them. Goyle Sr. had already turned into a giant canary for a minute, and Amycus Carrow was struggling to get out of a batch of quicksand that had appeared below him.

Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang and a few others that still had some magical strength in them, were provided brooms by the house-elves. Flying high to avoid most of the wind, and dodging among the moving staircases for protection, the students were able to cast hexes and curses down among the Death Eaters. Cedric was even able to transfigure a broken piece of masonry into a German Shepherd and sent it after Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy, having killed the '_dog_', returned fire with a _Bombarda Maxima _that took out part of the staircase from the third to fourth floor, sending people from both sides scrambling for safety. Cho had had to land on the fourth floor, having taken a face full of dust, and needed to clear her vision before doing anymore flying. Cedric, unable to cast anymore without possibly passing out, had taken to grabbing pieces of the destroyed staircase and hurling it down at the Death Eaters while on his broom. One of the Hufflepuff chasers followed Cedric's example, only to be caught by part of a _Crucio_ curse, making it so he was unable to control his dive, and crashed headon into a stone wall, and died instantly.

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Crouch and the diadem-horcrux watched the battle with sadistic glee.

"This is wonderful," remarked the horcrux, "but it still lacks something."

Then he spotted something peeking out of a hole in the wall. "_Imperio!_" the diadem-horcux said, using Crouch's arm and wand.

Rita Skeeter had found herself unable to resist sneaking back in her water beetle form and getting more of the story, as well as the wand she had lost when fleeing an enraged Vernon. Never in all her years as a reporter had she ever been able to watch such an amazing story unfold. Here would be the foundation of the greatest book she would ever write. No matter who won, the story would be a best-seller. She had already begun running possible titles for her book in her head when she heard those terrible words: "_Imperio!_"

The horcrux was surprised that the insect he had cast the unforgivable controlling curse on was able to put up such resistance. He chalked it up as being so depleted of magic, not realizing that the bug was actually an animagus.

"Lucius!" he commanded.

Malfoy ducked down behind his barricade before turning to the aspect of the Dark Lord. "My Lord?"

Barty Crouch Jr. was holding a water beetle in his left hand while the horcrux imbedded in his right should was using his right hand to hold the _Imperious_ curse on the insect.

"Enlarge my little friend, and we will send it to play among the squibs and blood traitors."

Lucius hesitated. "My lord, several of your servants' children are being held by the squibs. If that creature were to-"

"Do not concern yourself," spoke the horcrux, it's voice both cold and soothing. "Your child is here among us. And the squibs will concentrate their efforts on trying to overtake the monster in their midst. My followers' children will only not be in a moderate amount of danger. Now show me how dangerous you can make this insect."

Lucius swallowed nervously, but quickly turned his attention to the insect in his master's hands. He identified it as a water beetle with a strange design on it's shell. He was sure he'd seen similar insects over the last several years, but did not think it of consequence. "_Engorgio!_"

He kept enlarging the beetle until it was nearly the size of a car. Lucius also magically strengthen the insect so that it could bear its strength better as well as be quicker on it's legs. Summoning a tapestry off of the castle wall that had a leather backing, he had it spread over the shell of the beetle to help protect it from the magic-sucking pellets of the squibs. He then morphed the insects shell so that it was now spiked as well as giving it two large horns on either side of it's head. Finally, he cast several impervious spells on the monstrous-sized bug's exoskeleton to make it hard to kill.

"Marvelous, Lucius. Simply marvelous." Then with a maliciously gleeful giggle, the horcrux of the Dark Lord sent his new toy out to cause death and mayhem.

The modified, giant-sized water beetle leapt up over the barricades of the Death Eaters, and into the midst of the squibs and blood-traitors.

Neville pulled Luna out of the way of a terrific swipe from the imperioused animagus' horns. Daring squibs peppered the monstrous creature in their midst with paintball pellets with minimal results while the bug lashed out, spearing people with her horns and spikes.

The squibs had a momentary reprieve when Fred and George Weasley managed to get the bug stuck temporarily in one of their instant swamp prank items. Brave souls pulled the wounded and dying to cover while others continued peppering the deadly beast with pellets to weaken it.

Luna, seeing that the creature was practically impervious, began aiming at the joints of the beetle's legs. On her third attempt, she managed to partially sever one of it's six legs. "Aim for the joints! We can main her!"

One of the squibs had come up with a rifle that he began shooting the giant insect in the face. He'd damaged one antenna before being gorged by one of Rita's horns, and then trampled beneath her feet.

Rita, pushed forward and rammed open the doors of the Great Hall in her charge. Squibs followed after her, to protect the students who had originally been their captives.

The squibs were only momentarily surprised to see some of their guards stunned and the students being funneled out a secret passageway by some wizards. Even so, the squibs moved to tackle the giant marauding bug before it could get to any of the students who were now log jammed in their need to escape.

Viktor Krum, with his seeker reflexes, grabbed a hold of the two horns protruding from the sides of the beetle's face. Using his feet, he kicked hard into Rita's large buggy eyes. She shook her head fiercely to try shake the champion seeker off of her face. The distraction proved enough to allow a squib to use a makeshift bolo on Rita's right side, tying two of her legs together Luna managed to use a high powered _reducto_ curse to sever off one of the left-sided legs off completely. Krum was about to disengage from the horns when Rita's mandibles grabbed a hold of Krum's right foot, and crushed it like an empty aluminum can. In desperation, Krum's other foot stomped down on the eye of the gargantuan insect, crushing it. Rita reeled back in pain and released Krum's mangled foot.

"Kill it!" Krum shouted.

"No!" Luna cast several charms at the stumbling bug and finally put it to sleep.

"There. She's resting now," Luna simply said.

"Luna," said George as he came down for a landing on the broom he'd been given. "That thing-"

"-is a threat to all of us," Fred finished as he landed next to her.

"She didn't mean to attack us," Luna explained. "She's been _Imperioused_."

They watched as Madam Pomfrey made her way quickly to Krum, practically thrusting a strong pain-relieving potion at him, before waving her wand over his foot to determine the full extent of the damage

"That's even worse!" George exclaimed.

"I have to agree with my brother on this one," Fred said, putting her hand on her shoulder. "That thing is injured, and is still able to do injury to us. We have to put it down."

"Absolutely not!" Luna quickly moved between the twins and the injured insect. "I won't let you murder her!"

The twins looked perplexed. They could still hear fighting going on at the main exit, and they could use a breather, but they just didn't have the time to partake of one.

"Luna," said Fred.

"-it's just an insect," finished George.

"She's not an insect!" she insisted, showing more emotion than either of the twins had ever seen her display.

"Well, it's not a Crumple-Horned Snorkack if that's what you were thinking."

She frowned at him. "She's definitely not that. She's an animagus."

Both boys were surprised, but this was Luna. "How can you tell?"

She shook her head. "It would take too long to explain and your eyes are all wrong. Perhaps you would believe Madam Pomfrey?"

It took a few moments to convince Madam Pomfrey, but the possibility of the injured giant creature of actually being a animagus had her do the quick diagnostic.

"Oh Merlin!" exclaimed the med-witch. "It is a person!"

House-elves using long handled mops worked at clearing off the magic-eating gel before Pomfrey could dare try change the insect back into a person. And even then, there were the spikes and horns that she couldn't do anything about since she didn't recognize the spells used to make them.

And that was how Rita Skeeter was revealed to the world as being an animagus.

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Draco was finding the battle to be very educational. Also very repulsive.

He'd been brought up on stories of his father's Death Eater escapades. In the stories, his father had made the fighting sound so grand. But, now, seeing them firsthand... There was nothing pretty about a gut-expulsing curse. And Zabini's testicular-exploding curses…? He shivered. He was sure to have nightmares. Even a simple _reducto_ used to chop off someone's leg or head was so much more graphic and disturbing than he'd ever thought.

But then he'd never really thought about those that had been on the receiving end of his father's spells before.

And that brought another matter to Draco's head. The face-things that had been on both Marcus Flint's and the other guy's body was somehow connected to Lord Voldemort, and instead of being excited or happy about the Dark Lord returning from the dead, his father seemed reluctant, but duty-bound to comply. Despite all the stories that Draco had been told over his young life, his father was not happy to be serving the Dark Lord again.

And then there was the monstrous bug the Dark Lord had had his father create. The Dark Lord sent it directly into the Great Hall on a rampage. Draco had heard his father telling the Dark Lord that the squibs were keeping the students prisoners there, including the children of his followers. And he sent it in anyway. His father had to petrify Goyle from rushing in to the Great Hall to try get his son. And all the Dark Lord did was giggle insanely and watch.

That laugh sent chills down his spine in a way he hadn't felt since he'd come close to the Dementor guards on the train at the beginning of his Third Year.

Draco was now beginning to wonder if he and his father were on the right side.

At least he was not on the battlefield. Just far back and off to the side guarding two prisoners. So at least he wouldn't have to hurt anyone.

Even with all that seriousness, Draco did chuckle when he saw one of the Death Eaters get hit with a potion thrown from Cedric flying high above that exchanged the Death Eaters legs with his arms and vice versa.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

Draco almost jumped at the sudden accusation next to him. If Hermione's look could kill, he'd be dead and buried by now. "What is it now?" he said, only remembering to put a sneer in place after he had spoke.

"You blasted us from behind like a coward!"

"Is that what that was?" Harry groaned as he tried to sit up, hindered somewhat by the ropes binding him. "I thought we'd been run over by the Knight Bus."

Draco couldn't help chuckling again. Still, he was mad at them. "You attacked my father!"

"When known Death Eaters attack, you defend yourself!" Hermione snapped back. "Do you really think your father and his friends will just capture the squibs? They will eliminate all of them and call it a good day. And they will probably kill some muggle-borns and blood-traitors while they are at it while blaming it on the squibs, so they have a ready make excuse for everything they will have done."

Draco winced, he couldn't fault their logic. It sounded just like something some of the Death Eaters would try do. But would his dad?

Draco had never looked at the whole Death Eater aspect of his father in black and white before. It was one thing to hear that they were removing threats to their way of life, and it was another to hear the cries of a man undergoing the skinning curse. How could doing that to someone be right? Would he be expected to do that someday?

"If… if I were to let you escape, would you promise to just leave? Just get out of Hogwarts and keep on going until you are out of the country?"

The two Gryffindor students could only stare at their Slytherin counterpart.

"If this is a joke, it's in very bad taste," Harry remarked as he finally got into a sitting position.

"I'm not joking, scarhead. But if you are going to escape, you have to do it now, or forget about it."

"I don't think he's joking, Harry," Hermione whispered, sounding surprised.

Draco snorted. "What, you don't think I can make a noble gesture on occasion. '_The proof is in the crucible_,' as Professor Snape would say." Draco looked around to make sure his father and the others couldn't see him. Thinking himself safe, Draco pointed his wand at Hermione, who drew in a nervous breath.

Knowing he was committing himself with this act, Draco said the incantation to banish the ropes that bound her.

"There. See. I told you I wasn't joking." Draco then turned to Harry and started the same incantation.

There was a loud bang that started everyone. Several of those fighting, backed away from each other to see what the new sound was.

Draco seemed surprised. Then glancing down at his chest, he noticed a redness spreading down his formal clothes. Reaching out, he touched it, staring at it in confusion. "Was someone hurt?" It was all he said before falling facedown into the floor.

Behind him stood Marge Dursley holding a smoking gun in her hand. "No one is helping you to escape, freak!" Marge screeched. "This is all your fault!"

Myrtle paid no attention to the mortals as she floated down to Draco's remains. "Don't worry, my Draco. I'll be here waiting for you when you rise from your awakening." She sighed contentedly. "It will be so nice to have someone my age to haunt the bathrooms with."

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**_AUTHOR's_** **_NoTeS: _******

_7-9-2016_

_Ok, first I just want to say, the spinal device they put in to help block my pain seems to be helping. Still, even six weeks after surgery I really wasn't ready to fly down to California for my brother-in-law's wedding. We love the bride, and the wedding was great, but a heat wave had just started when we got there. We went to Disneyland and it got up to 106 degrees! Ouch! We also went to Universal Studios, and saw the Wizarding World. I have to say I loved the butterbeer, but when you are in the bathrooms, you hear recordings of Myrtle's voice which is rather disconcerting. _

_But about the story…_

_I had planned for Draco to become a ghost to join Myrtle for a long time now, maybe over a year, so it was nice to finally get that part into place._

_As for Draco's change of heart at the end, he was suddenly getting a harsh dose of reality when he saw the atrocities being committed by his heroes. I guess you could say he saw the light. And since he died, you may remember several chapters back he had promised Myrtle that if he were to die in the castle, then he'd haunt it with her. _

_As for Marge… she's just evil. And is reacting because she is seeing everything slipping away from her greedy fat fingers._

_And Rita Skeeter… I think it was somewhat fitting what happened to her. And no, she is not dead. You will hear more of her later._


	33. Chapter 33

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 33**

By Ordinaryguy2

Amelia Bones hurried the eleven aurors and five Hit Wizards she had been able to scramble together through the doors of the castle. The many times she had argued with Dumbledore that the aurors should have an open direct floo line into the castle crossed her mind more than once as she hurried.

She had been having a moderate holiday gathering at her manor (_nothing as ostentatious as the Malfoys had set up_) with only about fifty people in attendance when Minister Fudge had barged in, having just come from the ball at the Malfoys, with the ridiculous statement that squibs had evidently taken over Hogwarts and captured all the students at the Yule Ball. At first Amelia had believed that Fudge had fallen for a prank set up by the two troublemaking sons of Arthur Weasley, or some other tricksters. However, she believed she should error on the side of caution and check it out. She moved even faster when Fudge also mentioned that Lucius Malfoy and several of his party guests had already left to work on rescuing the students and teachers. There was no way she was going to allow a number of drunken former Death Eaters who had bribed their way out of going to Azkaban to settle any kind of situation, especially not in a school full of children of which her niece was one.

She hadn't been able to get ahold of Scrimgeour, and later remembered he was going to be down on the continent for the holidays. Dawlish had been Fudge's bodyguard for the evening, but Cornelius had insisted that Dawlish would be of better use going with her. Amelia was more of the belief that Dawlish would be Fudge's spy in the events of the evening, but she wasn't going to turn down another wand at this point. Dawlish begrudgingly accepted his dismissal of bodyguard duty for the rest of the night, but had scoffed at believing there was any real threat since everyone knew that squibs didn't have magic. Fortunately, Kingsley Shacklebolt was on duty at the ministry and took the matter very seriously, as did his protégé Tonks, despite her pink hair.

"Where do we go? The castle is a bloody big place to search," griped an out of breath Dawlish.

Amelia gave the barest shake of her head to indicate her annoyance with the man. Dawlish had been having to many plush, lazy protection details with the minister over the past couple of years which in her opinion was making him arrogant, lazy and out of shape. She was definitely going to have him take the new recruits through their exercise details for a few weeks to see if that will straighten him out. "The message said it was happening in the Great Hall."

Dawlish just rolled his eyes and begrudgingly kept up jogging with the others.

"Someone's coming," called out a Hit Wizard in a hushed tone. "They seem to be running in this direction."

"Spread out," commanded Bones. The Hit Wizards had already covered themselves with a _disillusionment_ charm, quickly followed by her aurors.

"Ma'am?"

"I'm going to talk to them, Kingsley." Amelia even started walking forward to meet whoever was coming. "We need information."

She was surprised once she recognized who it was that was hurrying toward her, and that he was pulling someone along with him. "Allon Greengrass, is that you?"

The Greengrass head of house looked forward in alarm, and almost raised his wand. "Amelia? What are- Thank Merlin you are here!"

It took Amelia a moment to recognize the woman that Allon was dragging along. Chlamydia Blishwick nee Glazen was at most a minor destructive minor parasite, and at best an annoying, conniving brat in her opinion, always trying to get a step up by stepping all over others, and enjoying the drama of the process, intentionally ruining the reputation of others if they were in her way or if she was just bored.

"I was at the Malfoy Yule party," he began.

"Yes, I know all that," she said, ignoring that part of her mind that was annoyed he had not accepted her party invitation over that of Malfoy. "What's going on here now?"

He blinked as he organized his thoughts. "We got here with the intent of rescuing the children. Only some of those that came from the Malfoy party were using questionable spells once we met the squibs."

"Squibs really took over the castle?" came a voice near a large banner. Amelia mentally put Dawlish on two months training with the new recruits to see if that helped him to apply his training better in the field.

Greengrass only glanced to where the voice was speaking for a second. "Yes, but that's not the worst thing."

"He's back!" Chlamydia suddenly cried out, terror effectively coloring her cry. "Somehow he's come back!"

"Tonks! Get her a calming draught!" shouted Amelia even as she hit the woman with a silencing spell. Tonks released the _disillusionment_ over herself, and already had the potion bottle in hand as she came forward.

"Allon." Amelia gave him a stern look even as Tonks led the silent hysterical woman a few feet away.

"There were two of them," he said nervously. "They were standing on the staircase above us, watching as we fought the squibs. But once they were revealed." He paused and shook his head. "You won't believe me. I don't believe me and I saw that whole damn thing."

"Don't make me slap you, Allon."

He looked at her in surprise.

"Just bloody tell us so we can do something about it," she said in her calm authoritative tone.

He nodded, his panic easing some. "On the staircase…, one was Titus Flint's boy, Marcus; the other… looked exactly like Barty Crouch Jr."

"Crouch Jr.'s dead. Has been that way for a decade," supplied Dawlish. Amelia was now planning once he finished his retraining with the new recruits, to have Dawlish do a month's rotation of guard duty at Azkaban.

"Did they do or say anything?" Amelia asked, hoping for something useful.

"Marcus had a human face on his chest. Well, his boob really. And the guy who looked like Barty's son, he had the same face on his shoulder."

"Was the face an insignia or-"

"No! It was a living face! A talking face! It was You-Know-Who's face on both of them! He's come back!"

She had to pick up her dropped monocle as well as her jaw. "Allon, that's just not possible."

"Lucius believed it to be!" Allon shouted. "He and the other so-called imperioused Death Eaters wasted no time bowing down to them!"

She felt a knot in her throat. "Oh dear Merlin no."

A few other people were now hurrying down the hall in their haste to flee the Death Eaters.

Thoughts of possible ways for the damn Dark Lord to come back from the dead filtered through her mind. All she could come up with were myths and the hints of stories. Nothing solid. But if anyone could figure a way to return from the dead it would be that blight on the Wizarding world. That monster in human form. That foul, rotten, twisted murdering bastard.

"Aurors and Hit Wizards, follow me. Rutabaker, you and Cowslip get these people out of here. Get them to the school gates and send them to Hogsmeade. Then come back and join us."

"Amelia," began Dawlish. "You don't actually believe this nonsense, do you?"

She chose not to hit him with a spell. "Dawlish. We are going to go in there and find out what exactly is going on. If there are squibs holding the students hostage, we will stop them and rescue the students. If somehow You-Know-Who has found a way to return, we will be the boot that squashes him before he can consolidate his power. And we will do that because we are aurors and Hit Wizards. That is our job. Do you understand me?"

He stood there gapping like a fish for a moment. When she headed off and the others followed her, he finally realized he was about to be left behind, and so followed.

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He didn't remember it. It was as if he had just skipped ahead in time. First he had heard that loud noise that he had only heard a few times before while doing the Dark Lord's bidding in the muggle world. The damage that the muggle gun had done to Fitzwillie's chest and face had been more devastating than a _reducto_. Even Fitzwillie's Death Eater mask had been broken by the weapon. Hearing that sound again here, in the echoic halls of Hogwarts made it sound like an ominous thunderstorm echoing in the highlands.

Then he had seen his son fall, bleeding out onto the stone floor. The next thing he knew, he was holding his only child close to him. There was no life in him.

How had this happened? How could it have come to pass?

Lucius didn't care anymore what the answer was. He had his scapegoat all picked out. That damn Potter brat. Oh, why couldn't that brat just die. Life would have been so much simpler if the brat had just done the decent thing and just died. Morgana knew the Potter brat had had more than enough opportunities to do so before now.

"Or maybe he just needs a person with the right amount of determination to do him in once and for all," he snarled.

"Seeking revenge, are you?"

Slowly, and with a hint of reluctance, Lucius looked over his shoulder to his Dark Lord. "My lord." His head lowered with a tremble, not trusting himself to say anything else to him at that very moment.

The horcrux on Bartemius Crouch Jr.'s shoulder looked down at Malfoy and his dead son with a serene look. "You shall have your revenge. And when we are done with Harry Potter and his muggle relatives, we will have redefined the very meaning of the word '_revenge_'!"

"Tom? Tom Riddle, is that you in there?" Next to Draco's body, the ghost of Myrtle materialized, surprise etched on her pale, transparent face as she looked up at the horcrux facial construct.

"Myrtle Warren?"

Crouch Jr. glanced down at the horcrux he was housing on his shoulder. "My lord, you know Moaning Myrtle?"

The eyes of the diadem-horcrux glanced upward at his servant/host. "Silence," he growled before turning his attention back to the young ghost. "Myrtle, I had heard you had taken to haunting the castle."

The ghost said nothing at first but trembled.

"Is it true?" she finally blurted out in outrage. "Is it true that you were the one that called the basilisk that killed me?"

The version of Tom Riddle closed his eyes as he reran those memories of his life over. Blinking his eyes, he regarded her. "To be fair, you surprised me. I had thought the bathroom to be unoccupied when I opened the entrance to the Salazar's Chamber of Secrets."

"I thought you were my friend!" she cried out while ectoplasmic tears formed around her eyes. "You even said those of us raised in the non-magical world needed to stick together! You were just using us, weren't you?"

For his part, the segment of Tom Riddle gave an annoyed sigh. "I really hate it when former pawns get all broken up about trivial things. Lucius, banish this annoyance away from here."

Before Malfoy could bring his wand to bear, Myrtle had already given a startled streak and dove through the floor.

"She always was overdramatic as she was naive," muttered the horcrux. His eyes turned their focus to Lucius. "Shall we go and avenge your son, Lucius?"

Lucius Malfoy eased his son's body onto the floor. "I will avenge you, my little dragon," he said softly, letting his hand rest gently on his son's chest for a brief moment before closing his son's eyes forever.

Barty Crouch Jr. stepped around the display of familial affection, uncertain why their lord was catering to the damn traitor who had abandoned him over a decade ago.

"I can feel your frustration, Barty," said the horcrux, sending a chill down his spine. "Let's go do that which would make you happier. Let us get ahold of Potter and his date. Their tortured screams will ring in a new age for Hogwarts and the Wizarding world."

"My lord," began Barty, "you should know that your… other self… has need of Potter. Alive… and mostly whole."

The diadem-horcrux searched through Crouch's memories where he interacted with his other self. It was disconcerting and rather revolting to see that the great and powerful Lord Voldemort had been reduced to living as a twisted mockery of a human baby. "So young Harry Potter was being groomed to be a viable potions component for my resurrection. What a disgusting and perverse solution. I absolutely love it." He regarded his mule again for a moment. "You have served me well. You shall definitely be rewarded well."

Barty was thanking his master for being offered such an award, and as he walked around the corner to the side hall so intent on recapturing Potter, Granger and the fat muggle woman that he never saw the bullet coming that caught him in the temple.

The diadem-horcrux tore away from the instantly deceased host he had been living upon. Flailing around, the evil segmented entity looked for any ghosts that it could try to absorb like the diary-horcrux had said it had done, only to curse it's luck for having chased Myrtle away. It could feel its connection with this existence slipping away, so knew it had to act fast. And yet in that moment, he could feel something familiar nearby. Something that Crouch had as well as several others nearby. It wasn't another horcrux. But it was connected in a way to him. With nothing to lose but his existence which was already started to slip away, the section of Tom Riddle's soul went for it, causing someone nearby to fall over in pain while several Death Eaters ran over.

"Damn it! Is he dead again already?" Walden Macnair tried to look around Yaxley.

Yaxley carefully turned Crouch Jr.'s body over, ignoring the bullet hole in Barty's body, so that he could study the construct on his shoulder. The milky still eyes were more than enough of an indicator for everyone present.

The Carrows began cussing up a blue streak while Goyle kicked the corpse. Gibbon, still being cursed, spat up another large slug onto the ground. Fester Nott hurriedly dropped the unconscious form of Crabbe, and created a series of protective shields from the stone floor while some of the other Death Eaters made sure to protect them from overhead.

"Damn him!" growled Thorfinn Rowle. "We declared our loyalties to him in the open and he leaves us hanging again! I'll be lucky if I'm not completely broke paying off bribes to stay out of Azkaban! Why the bloody hell did he have to come back again?"

"Be careful, Rowle," came the familiar chilling voice that made them all freeze in place. "One might think I wasn't appreciated by those I had given so much trust."

"M-my lord?" Walden Macnair looked about with more terror than he had ever experienced while hunting down dangerous magical creature that needed putting down. Even with the horrors he had seen on the Scottish moors, he was still stunned when Lucius Malfoy looked up at them. There, on the left side of Malfoy's face was literally the face of the Dark Lord. Their facial features were so close together Malfoy's right eye was also the left eye of the horcrux facile construct. Fortunately, they did have separate mouths or conversations would have been difficult.

"Crouch served me well, Gregory. Do not abuse his body." He studied the looks of fear and apprehension, soaking it up to enjoy later. "I told you all before, many years ago, that death would not claim me. I shall not die. I will always return to follow my path. I will rule the Wizarding world in Britain. We, my followers, will grow in strength and soon after take over Europe. And eventually, the world!" Using the wand in his hand, the horcrux summoned the shrunken trunk that contained Salazar Slytherin's portrait to him, placing it nonchalantly into one of Lucius' pockets.

Meanwhile, Malfoy's left eye was looking about wildly as the man tried to understand his new fate as mule to the horcrux of his Dark Lord.

"Calm yourself, Lucius," came the silky sweet tone that so often promised him money and power in the past. "You shall have your revenge. Just not quite yet, as I have a need for Potter. But, you will be my instrument in killing the last of the Potters when the time comes, as well as that muggle woman that shot your son. I'll even let you keep the girl if you want."

"N-no!" Lucius tried orienting himself, but found it difficult to do anything unless he was allowed. "The girl. I want… to torture her… in front of Potter!"

"And you know by torturing her, you are also torturing him." The horcrux chuckled evilly. A few of the Death Eaters tried to join in on the laughter, but they were out of practice. And even then, usually they had just followed Bellatrix's lead.

"So you _are_ back," spoke a feminine voice. Atoxica Zabini around the confused Death Eaters, several of who had even partially raised their wands at her. She eyed them with contempt, making them feel like they were something she had distastefully discovered under her shoe. (_which was rather remarkable considering all that was going on_).

The horcrux pulled the information that Lucius had about Atoxica directly from his brain. It was only then that he realized that he had actually met a much younger Atoxica Zambini before he had fashioned his diadem horcrux. It had been decades ago when he had been consulting her mother about the interpretation of Gaelic texts referring to preserving life at any cost. He was unsure of what other contact his main self had had with Atoxica before having his body destroyed that fateful Halloween night, but Lucius' memories alluded to that Atoxica Zambini had been consulted a few times, but had refused to accept the dark mark when it had been offered to her. She was also one of the few to be allowed to refuse without receiving any type of punishment.

They paused as a Death Eater under a compulsion Weasley gag item that he had been tagged with went behind Macnair and started to act as if he were part of an enthusiastic conga line. Macnair tried to strangle the poor fool and was only barely stopped in time thanks to the other Death Eaters.

Out of the blue, they were all stilled by an eerie, creepy sound. The sound of their dread lord laughing. "As amusing as this reunion is," he finally began, "we have other matters to attend to first. Potter must be captured. Do not permanently injure or kill him. That will come later. As for the two females with him, I have promised Potter's girlfriend to Lucius. As for the bloated muggle woman, she is of no consequence, though Lucius may be in the debt of whoever captures her. I'm sure he would pay well for the right to torcher the woman who murdered his only son.

The dark glints in the eyes of the men all understood that. While most of them sympathized with Malfoy's loss, gaining gold or even being owed a favor by Malfoy would be something they all sought.

"_Stupefy_!"

Fester Nott hit the floor unconscious while the rest of the Death Eaters looked to see where the new assault was coming from.

"Aurors!" shouted Rowle, even as he put up a shield in front of him in time to block two spells that bounced off it.

Seven aurors were racing down the hall toward them, but were accompanied by an unknown number of disillusioned aurors and/or Hit Wizards. Most aurors were unable to maintain the disillusionment spell on themselves while casting offensive and defensive spells, for the Hit Wizards, being able to remain disillusioned while fighting was a requirement to getting the job.

The horcrux chuckled at the sight of the oncoming aurors. Then reaching inside of his new host body, he tapped into Malfoy's magical core which had a lot more magic available to him. He sent a large jet of flame down the main hall that they were coming from, relishing in the screams and shouts of the aurors at his overpowering surprise attack.

When he brought his flame to an end, he was somewhat surprised to see only two, maybe three dead flaming bodies. How they had managed to avoid him left him vexed. He had to create a rock barrier when a gargoyle was sent hurtling down at him from above. He spied Cedric Diggory flying high up among the staircases, this time having thrown a marble bust of some fifteenth century wizard. With the flick of Malfoy's wand, the marble bust flew off to one side where it fatally killed one of the disillusioned Hit Wizards, the dead man clearly visible now.

The splinter of Voldemort grinned evilly. He would let the peons believe he had intentionally meant to do that. Glancing up at the broom-flyer, Riddle cast an obscure Vietnamese curse he had learned in his travels at the teen. Six large, flaming bats shot out of the wand he held, racing upwards after Cedric.

For his part, Cedric let out a curse and took off on a life or death flight through the halls of the castle. Later he would compare his race against certain death to when Harry had been chased by the Hungarian Horntail.

"_Homenum Revelio!_" shouted Yaxley.

Orange outlines of the disillusioned aurors and Hit Wizards were suddenly made apparent to the Death Eaters, and the fighting began again in earnest.

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Amos Diggory looked about the Great Hall for any sign of his son. Beside him, Narcissa glanced around for any sign of her son.

"Maybe they escaped already." Horace Slughorn nervously looked over their shoulders as they peered through the entrance of the hidden passageway. They had already aided most of the students that had been held hostage to escape down the forgotten passageway. Those that remained were either treating the injured or were for some reason helping the squibs repel those trying to put them down.

Narcissa frowned. "Or they are being held in another area with the higher profile hostages."

Amos nodded. "That sounds plausible. But how do we find out?"

"We really need to leave!" insisted Slughorn.

Amos shook his head. "You go catch up with Stanlee and the others. You probably know more secret passageways out of Hogwarts than any of the students. Make sure they get out. Narcissa and I will follow after we find our children."

Horace wanted to argue, but knew it was pointless since they both had children out there somewhere. "I'll let the authorities know what you are doing as soon as I can. That way they will know to look out for you."

Narcissa didn't even look back at the man as he left, jogging after the last of the students that they had funneled out of the Great Hall.

"They don't seem to mind the loss of most of their hostages," Amos remarked. "I'm beginning to think that there is more going on here than at first glance."

They watched as several house-elves worked with long handled mops while scrubbing the outer shell of the monstrous beetle that had been subdued.

"That thing," Narcissa pointed at the ginormous, modified water beetle, "was sent in here by whoever is attacking the squibs."

"Most likely, it was your husband and your party guests." Amos' tone was cold as he tried to control the anger built up inside him.

"That is completely unlikely," she snapped, reacting to the tense situation. "Every one of our guests had children they were related to one way or another inside here being held captive. They wouldn't do something as careless as sending some monster rampaging in here where the hostages were being kept."

Diggory snorted in disdain. "Then who do you think is fighting the squibs out there?"

A scowl creased her brow. "Let's find out." She stormed forward before Amos could stop her. In fact, all he could do was join her. They both quickly cast _notice-me-not_s on themselves as they marched across the floor, ready for any attack.

Amos paused as he watched Madam Pomphrey treat the mangled foot of the Durmstrang champion Viktor Krum. She seemed hard pressed, and was pouring potions directly on the wound instead of having him ingest it. Since ingest potions tend to rely more on using the magic of the witch or wizard to aid in the healing, Amos could only speculate that Krum was a victim of the squibs magic draining weapons. He didn't want to think of the political implications that this debacle was going to cause, but if the squibs were trying to draw attention to themselves, they will have definitely succeeded. Unfortunately, people would have been more sympathetic to them if they hadn't held children hostages. And worse, with a rising death toll and injuries, more and more people are not going to want to hear the complaints of the squibs.

When his attention returned to his companion, he saw that Narcissa had been stopped by a young blonde-haired witch who he was sure he should recognize. It wouldn't be much later that he would wonder about how she had managed to see through their _notice-me-not_ charms.

"You really shouldn't be here," he heard the girl inform Narcissa.

"Ms. Lovegood, if you know where the priority hostages are being held, you must tell me."

Luna looked about her in a daze. "I could, but you don't think you will find what you are looking for there."

Amos let out a quiet groan. Getting understandable answers for a Lovegood was like trying to teach trolls how to ballet. He almost considered stopping one of the few squibs running about to get answers.

"Nargles be damned," mumbled Luna. "I will tell you plainly what you seek; however, you must try not to go off like a niffler."

"Where's my son?" Narcissa demanded.

"And my boy, Cedric?" added Amos.

With a sympathetic look, she pointed in the direction that the fighting was taking place. "Draco has joined his father with the Death Eaters. Cedric is helping us oppose them."

Her eye twitched. "There are no longer any Death Eaters."

Luna shook her head sadly. "They have always been Death Eaters. And now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned, they have returned to his service."

Amos' jaw dropped and his knees threatened to buckled beneath him. Narcissa was more dramatic in her response. She gave Luna a resounding slap across her face.

"How dare you!" she seethed. "Lying to me! After all I did to help get these hostages out of here? You think you can just hurt me like that? Is this your idea of some type of revenge? I was a friend of your mother is school! I asked you for help and you… you…"

Luna hadn't moved a step when she was struck. She had let her head roll with the slap. And now as she turned back to her accuser, her hair was across her face, only slightly obscuring her view. The red handprint was already forming on Luna's pale skin.

"Do-" Amos had to pause for a moment before continuing. "Do you really mean to tell us that You-Know-Who is here in this castle?"

"Parts of him are."

Narcissa made to slap her again only this time Amos grabbed her hand.

She roughly yanked her hand away from him. "The idiot child is speaking about the dark marks that had been put on them!"

"No, I'm not," insisted Luna calmly. "Aspects of the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named have revealed themselves a short while ago while the squibs were opposing the attackers. Once they saw the abominable things that were part of the Dark Lord, your husband and many of the others began bowing."

"That.. couldn't have happened," Amos said, before casting a glance at Narcissa. "Could it?"

Narcissa hesitated. Then shook her head. "I refuse to believe that!"

Luna sighed. She was more than used to people disbelieving her, though it could still be so frustrating. "Who do you think they are fighting out there? From their attire, they all just came from a formal gathering, and since your husband was leading the attack, I believe I can safely postulate that the attackers have all come from a ball that the Malfoys are well known to throw on this date." She paused to give them time to disagree. When they didn't, she continued. "Now can you imagine your husband or any of your guests creating that transfigured water beetle_, imperio_-ing it, and then sending it on a mission of destruction directly where the Hogwarts students were being kept.

"Of course not!" snapped Narcissa.

Luna nodded. "Now, _if_, and I stress '_if_' here in the hopes you won't feel the need to hit me again, _if_ He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had managed to come back, would You-Know-Who have any problem ordering his minions to create and send the _imperio_-ed and modified beetle on a killing spree in an enclosed space where he knew his servants' children were being held hostage?"

Narcissa paled. Her mind tried to discover some flaw in the blonde waif's sentence. The problem being that she was starting to believe her more and more.

"No!" she insisted. "Lucius wouldn't allow it!"

She broke away from Amos and hurried to where the squibs were still fighting the wind being blown their way, making their paintball pellets ineffective.

Narcissa wasn't sure how much longer her _notice-me-not_ spell was going to be effective in these close quarters so she needed to hurry. A squib next to her was struck with a piece of shrapnel that cut right through most of the padding he was wearing, creating a hole in his gut. Two house-elves appeared nearby, both wearing long plastic gloves that they used to put the squib onto a makeshift gurney that had appeared with them.

"Why don't you apparat him?" she found herself asking. Being a pure-blood, she knew that the only ones that could apparat on Hogwart's property were house-elves. The only other means for quick travel were the floo-network, portkeys keyed to Hogwarts, and however that phoenix that the headmaster keeps travels.

The two house-elves looked at her wide-eyed. "We'se would if we'se could. But they's covers themselves with magic-taking liquid to keep wizards from spelling them. The magic-taking liquid will not lets us apparat them. We'se lucky to be able to get this close because bad wizards is putting up house-elf blocking wards close to them."

She considered that while the two house-elves hurriedly wheeled the injured man out of there. Amos could be seen getting involved aiding some squibs that had become buried in some rubble so she was able to go unimpeded.

Narcissa soon found herself hunched down behind a barricade that she was peering over as she watched the squibs fight against several individuals who had been at her party earlier in the night.

A few yards ahead of her, she could see Professor McGonagall looking like the textbook example of magical exhaustion even as she used a wand to block spell fire and shrapnel flies toward them. A small older squib, who Narcissa at first thought was a tall house-elf from behind, was trying to convince the deputy headmistress to fall back.

Narcissa saw one of her earlier party guests, Alecto Carrow, a rude disgusting woman who Lucius insisted on inviting ever year, peer across the small battlefield that made up the main hall entrance, and cast a _blood-boiling_ curse towards McGonagall. McGonagall had been swooning at the time as she tried to gather her strength. The squib next to her had been more observant of her surroundings, and pushed Minerva out of the way, and was hit by the curse instead.

Not thinking of her own safety, Narcissa raced across the way to her secret favorite teacher from her Hogwarts days. Minerva was trying to sit up to see what had happened, when Narcissa was there helping her.

"N-Narcissa?"

"Are you hurt?"

"I… I don't think so. Just my pride. Among other things. Is Agnus alright?"

The pure-blood flinched slightly as she hadn't really given much thought to the squib or her safety. Just behind her the squib rolled on the ground as if in agony.

"She was hit," Minerva stated as she drew closer. "Did you see what it was that hit her?"

Narcissa blinked in surprise. "A _blood-boiling_ hex, I believe."

Minerva nodded. "The magic absorbing gel covering her clothes must have stopped most of the power of the hex, but she is still burning up." She looked to her hands and then at the gel coated clothing of the squib. "I need gloves. If I try to undress her now, the gel will take the last of my magic and I'll slip into a magic-exhausted coma."

Narcissa looked between Minerva and the pain-racked squib. Then down at her own gloved hands. "I guess… I can do it." She eased around Minerva but made sure that she was still protected by their shelter. She hurried as she looked for buttons only for Minerva to have to explain to her how a zipper worked. Narcissa had Agnus down to a light shirt and pants, while Minerva carefully wiped Agnus' face of any residue gel. Finally, Minerva was ready to cast the counter-curse to the _blood-boiling_ hex when Narcissa stopped her.

"Save your strength, professor. I am quite familiar with the counter-curse to this awful hex." Then before Minerva could argue, Narcissa cast the counter-curse at full strength. There were a few small spots of magic absorbing gel on Agnus' clothing that lit up, but there was more than enough of the spell concentrated on her to remove all of the hex. "I'm not sure what potions would work on a squib." She had a few tubes of various potions in her expandable hand purse, but had read of the complications of getting certain potions to work on squibs.

Before either of them could decide, another gurney and two house-elves appeared to carry the squib out of the battle zone.

Narcissa cast a magical shield to protect them from most things that came their way.

Minerva leaned against the broken body of a stone gargoyle and almost let her eyes close, but somehow managed to find the strength to keep them open. "Mrs. Malfoy," she began, before amending her address. "Narcissa, are you doing all right?"

Narcissa had been watching the squibs as they continued to try fight the wind and spell fire.

"Shouldn't I be asking that of you?" she said, with a little cheek to lighten the mood.

Minerva didn't catch that. "I'm so sorry for your loss. If-"

That caught Narcissa's attention. "Did something happen to Lucius? Did he get hurt fighting these squibs?"

Minerva's eyes widened in alarm. "You don't know, do you?"

Her grip tightened on her wand. "Professor, if you don't tell me right now, I'll hex you myself."

The professor reached out a hand, but Narcissa wasn't having any of it. She wanted…, no, she needed to know why her professor was looking at her so remorsefully. Was this about the Dark Lord matter that she didn't really believe yet, even if several of her party guest were acting like their old selves as they flung curses and hexes like mad.

"Tell me!" she demanded.

Minerva found the strength to get to her knees. Looking over the broken stone that was most of their shelter, she pointed. "He rushed out after seeing his father. He made it possible for them to capture Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. But then something horrible happened. Mr. Potter's aunt's sister-in-law, a decisively evil woman, had evidently been a part of the squib invasion. But she had grander schemes in mind and was not at all pleased with how-"

"Just tell me!" Narcissa shouted.

McGonagall looked down, sighing. "I believe she came down a hall behind your son and shot him in the back."

"Shot him?" Her mind tried to determine what that might mean. She knew enough about photography to know how they would '_shoot_' or have '_shot_' photographs. But there was other terms that could work for having '_shot_' someone. Like with a bow and arrow. But few people cared to use those types of archaic devices. Still she had heard the term somewhere else in regards to muggle weaponry.

"What are you saying? Tell me plainly!"

Tears began to form in her old professor's eyes. "Draco is dead, Narcissa." She pointed out over to the side of the battle zone that the Death Eaters held. There, partially hid behind some rubble, was a small body. But what caught Narcissa's attention was the small sprig of shocking white-blonde hair that stuck up in the air.

"No," she whispered.

"I'm afraid so."

She still refused to believe it. "_Accio… body!_"

The body flew through the air, causing some of the spell fire to stop as people looked to see what was going on. Despite the speed, to Narcissa it all seemed to be happening in slow motion. Minerva managed to place a cushioning charm on the ground as Narcissa caught Draco and fell to her knees.

"No, no, no, no, no, no."

McGonagall sat next her and placed a comforting arm on her shoulder before finally succumbing to magical exhaustion. It would be four days before she woke to learn how everything turned.

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**THE CONFRENCE ROOM RIGHT OFF FROM THE GREAT HALL**

Severus Snape finally finished cutting through the last of the rope binding him to his chair. He had to be subtle in in his action so as to not draw attention from the so-called squib healer that was '_treating_' Percy Weasley for extreme magical exhaustion or from Petunia Dursley who was still crying over her dead husband.

He wished that his spare wand hadn't been confiscated along with the other items he kept on his person for emergencies. As it was the only reason he had anything to even cut his ropes with is because he had a few samples of flayer's grass shoots. When the house-elves had summoned all his knives, wands and equipment, they missed the organic plant shoots he had kept on his person for just such a situation. Though Severus would be loath to admit it, he had taken 'Mad-Eye' Moody's motto – '_Constant Vigilance!_' – to heart, creating several items for escape tools as part of that.

Albus Dumbledore had finally given in and passed out. The old man had struggled to stay awake, he had hopes that he could resolve this whole disaster. But time and exhaustion were too much in the end so he sat there loudly snoring where he was tied up in his chair.

Snape was about to go and sneak out of the room when the captive next to him called for his attention with the snapping of her fingers. He didn't have to use legilimency with Delores Umbridge's glaring eyes promising all sorts of difficulties if he were to abandon her here and now.

Giving a sniff of annoyance, Snape quickly freed her, then turned to leave her to her own devices. Delores was not a total idiot. It's true that she believed herself to be superior due to her pure-blood status, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be overcome by superior numbers like had happened with the squibs rose up against them. It would have to be a day or two before she made that stupid mistake again. So for now she could only think to follow the Hogwarts potions master as he led the way out.

Snape was exhausted as anyone else that had been splattered with the gel the squibs were using. Even so, he focused carefully to make it to the door as quietly as possible. The door itself had been left partially open so he was able to look out into the main hallway. It resembled something between a battle field and an old ruin. Even part of the staircase had been destroyed. On the far end he was surprised to see several people he knew to be Death Eaters and they seem to be facing off against a group of aurors led by Amelia Bones. Closer to where he was, several squibs were trying to still mount an attack, but their forces were depleted.

And then he saw Minerva, Narcissa and his godson, Draco.

"Merlin." Somehow he made it over to them, and when Narcissa saw Snape, she pulled him into a weeping hug. Holding her was awkward; he hadn't held anyone that close since Lily. Turning his head, he examined Minerva and was relieved to see she was still breathing. He glanced back to Draco in hope that he had missed seeing him breathing as well.

"Is he-"

"Yes," she simply answered.

Something clenched in his gut. His godson was truly dead. He knew that Draco could be a bit of a brat, but he still had had high hopes with what the lad would accomplish in his life.

"How?" he asked, not thinking, and thus causing Narcissa to break down into even more sobs.

"I can answer that." Moaning Myrtle's head popped up from the stone floor. She cast her eye around as it looking for some kind of threat. "The fat muggle woman shot him. The sister of Vernon Dursley. I don't remember her name."

"Marge!" Severus spat out.

He patted Draco's mother's back. "I will avenge him," he swore.

"How could a muggle possibly kill a pure-blood boy?"

Severus glanced over his shoulder to see that Delores had followed him. Considering she had few options as to where she could go, he shouldn't have been so surprised.

"She used a muggle weapon called a gun," explained Myrtle.

"A '_gun_'? What's that?" asked the toad-like witch.

Myrtle grinned, as she was enjoying all this interaction while she waited for Draco to rise from the grave. "Back when I was taking Muggle Studies, Professor Yacko called them '_boom-sticks_', which is aptly named due to the noise it makes."

Delores sneered. "I don't care what it's called, if I had a wand…" It was at that unfortunate moment, that Delores Umbridge spotted the wand in McGonagall's hand. She quickly snatched it away. "You don't deserve a wand, you filthy blood-traitor! Turning on your own kind! How dare you!" she shouted at the unconscious woman.

Snape moved slightly so that he was between them. "We don't have time to fight amongst ourselves. Besides, you can see that she is suffering from magical exhaustion."

Umbridge stepped back, holding the wand close to her chest. "I will not allow myself to be disarmed again!" she snapped, as she put on her most threatening look.

"I'm not planning to take it from you. I'm near magical exhaustion myself. You, however, used Percy Weasley as a human shield so were only slightly hit by those magic absorbing gel pellets. So even a mediocre witch like you would be more effective with it than I would right now."

Sparks came out of the wand as she began to swing it about, ignoring what he had said. "I like this wand. A blood traitor like her doesn't deserve a wand like this."

It was only then that Snape got a good look at the wand she held. "That's Dumbledore's wand."

"Well, that mudblood lover isn't able to use it right now and I am," she snared. "In fact I may just keep this wand for myself after I turn the tables on these uppity squibs and muggles. I wouldn't be surprised if the mudbloods had put them up to this."

Due to previous experience, Severus could see the fanatic light growing in her eyes. And it was another thing he didn't want to have to deal with just then. Or ever, really.

"The squib forces are in disarray. But now the Death Eaters are facing Amelia Bones and her aurors. She may have Hit Wizards with her as well."

Delores hesitated. "Why are they fighting against each other? It's the squibs that caused all this! And those are some of the elite of our society that you are calling Death Eaters! The only Death Eaters living today are in Azkaban!"

Snape wished he could slap her. "Were you not listening to the same conversations that I did? The squibs were saying that Voldemort had somehow returned and the Death Eaters immediately joined him!"

"Nonsense!" she barked. "That was nothing but a squib trick to confuse us. In fact, they probably use the same ruse on Bones in order to divide their opposition. She never was one to catch on to the obvious."

'_Pompous, close-minded ignoramus!_' thought Severus.

"I can verify it as truth," stated the ghost who that had momentarily forgotten. "I was here and heard it all."

Umbridge cast a critical eye at the Ravenclaw spirit. But before she could disregard the ghost and her statement, another spoke.

"It's true," said Narcissa Malfoy. "My husband and many of those fighting alongside him are all Death Eaters."

Delores shifted her stance. "Yes, but they were under the _Imperious_-"

"They lied and bribed their way out of Azkaban!" Narcissa snapped. "And I'm sure once their precious Lord Voldemort whistled, they all came running! And because of that, my son is now dead!"

Delores didn't know what to say. She was sure that it was the grief of seeing her dead son that was making Mrs. Malfoy act in this manner. Surely, upstanding citizens like Lucius Malfoy could not be so despicable as to willingly serve You-Know-Who. Not that she disagreed with most of what You-Know-Who stood for. It's just that you can't just go around killing people all willie-nillie. There are government procedures that people need to adhere to so that everything is legal and above board.

"_Reducto!_"

She jumped in alarm, then about three seconds later she turned and pointed her wand at an approaching redheaded witch and a black wizard, both armed with a wand.

"You need to still keep an eye out," called out Ginny Weasley. "There's still a few snakes crawling around."

Looking down near her feet, Delores was shocked to see a large sidewinder with it's head cut cleanly off.

"That's seven to my six," Dean Thomas muttered. "There's gotta be another snake around here somewhere."

Snape gave Umbridge a distinctive sneer. "It appears one of those blood traitors just saved your life."

Gapping at first, Delores finally shook her head. "I'm sure I would have noticed it in plenty of time." Glancing back at Narcissa, she wasn't sure what to say to the woman as she lay weeping while holding her dead son. The look that Myrtle was giving her wasn't helping. Looking over at the far end of the corridor, she could see the back of Lucius Malfoy as he used a fire whip with devastating skill. Amelia Bones and the black auror who would never wear a proper uniform – Knightly or something – were trying to hold him back while getting one of their wounded to safety.

Gripping the Elder wand in her hand, Delores found courage to do something she would never have been willing to do before. "I'm going to find out for myself what is going on," she announced, and quickly strode toward the fighting. Technically, she planned on getting some answers from one of those on the edge of the fighting. Just to be sure of her safety, she used the wand to create a basic magic shield and was very happy with the result. Even more so when something bounced off her shield startling her, and thus making the shield fade away. She quickly made the shield again, then spent a moment glaring around as she tried to determine which direction the spell had originated from. Finally giving up, in a huff she stormed forward coming up to the closest one that she recognized. Walden Macnair: The Ministry's Executioner of Dangerous Creatures.

She looked at him coldly, daring him to raise his wand at her as she closed the distance between them, this time not letting her shield down when something ricocheted off of it.

Macnair kept his usual glower in place as he watched the toad in pink formal wear stomped walked up to him despite there being a raging battle going on all around. There was an aura of power around her which he found to be undeniably smoking hot. For a moment he wondered if this could be true love.

"Gangway! Coming through!"

Cedric like a bat out of hell. Or more like the bats of hell were flying after him. Two of the six flaming bats had collided into walls several miles back in his flight. The other four bats were still closing in on him despite his broom-flying skills. Once he looped back into the main hall towards the Great Hall, Cedric made a mad dive down to bring him and his blazing entourage in close to the Death Eaters.

Fester Nott, having been woken from the _stupefy_ spell, managed to get an ice barricade up in time for one of the large bats to slush through it and crash into him so that he only received burns from the now dead bat.

Cedric really hadn't planned this out. He was going on more of a '_What would Harry do?_' moment, which basically meant flying by the seat of his pants, and take incredible risks. Which is why he suddenly dove down level with the stone floor and flew between Walden Macnair's legs from behind. A startled Macnair was just about to snap off a spell after Diggory when one of the flaming bats slammed into his back and lit him up like a torch.

Umbridge screamed in surprise and horror, throwing her hands up in the air, as well as the Elder wand which flew among the combatants.

Delores, now totally unarmed, fled.

Cedric flew off down another hall to lose the two remaining flaming bats.

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Down one of the halls leading away from the ongoing clash of forces, Marge Dursley continued to drag the bound form of Harry Potter.

She dropped her hold on Harry, as she gasped for breath and raised her handgun so that it was pointed directly at the girl following them. "Not another step, dearie," she growled. "I may not be able to do your hocus pocus, but I do know that I can drill you full of holes before you can finish saying any of your spells."

Hermione swallowed. "This doesn't have to be this way!"

Marge snorted. She looked down at Harry. "And I heard she was the smart one at this school. I should have known it wasn't true when I heard she was going out with you."

Harry stayed silent beside seething inside. He was trying to draw magic to himself in order to fill his empty reserves, but evidently that worked slower when you were at the magical exhaustion level. Despite him being so weak at the moment, he was till bound from his neck to his feet. And speaking of his feet, Ripper, Marge's champion bulldog, was trying to use his left shoe as a chew toy while Harry's foot was in it.

"Make him stop!" Hermione cried out.

The large woman just laughed. "That's just how Ripper shows how much he appreciates the freak."

"He's not a freak!" Hermione retorted. "If anyone is a freak, it's you! No one should treat people the way you have treated Harry!" Alarm came across her face as she realized that she may have pushed Marge too far.

Marge, however, was amused. "She's got more gumption in her than you ever had, boy."

Harry squirmed about as he tried to get his feet away from the evil dog. By accident, he felt something in his pocket. Realizing what it might be, Harry squirmed some more so that his hand could reach into his pocket. It felt squishy enough to be what he hoped it would be so as soon as he managed to get it out of his pocket, he let it fall out between the ropes.

The big woman had caught her breath, and grabbed a hold of the rope Harry was tied with and commenced dragging him along to who-knows-where. And by moving Harry, she revealed the candy treat that Harry had dropped to the bulldog.

Ripper instantly snapped the candy, wrapping and all, into his mouth, and chomped away at it.

"Ripper, what are you eating now?" Marge spoke to her dog, as she paused for breath. "You know you can't eat everything you find. Especially in a freaky place like this." She looked down the hall to make sure it was still clear of traffic. The animated portraits were getting on her nerves and they whispered back and forth. Some of the portrait subjects even followed after them into other picture frames. When she held total control of the castle, burning the portraits was one of the first things she planned to do. Unless they were valuable. She could see them, instead and make lots of money.

A yelp from Ripper drew her attention. When she looked her eyes almost boggled out of her head. As it was she did drop Harry who let out a grunt of pain.

"Ripper! What! How!"

The bulldog's tongue had sprung out of his mouth like a headless, fat python that couldn't move if it wanted to.

Hermione gaped for a moment as she realized that this was the result of one of the Weasley twins' prank items – the ton-tongue toffee! Suddenly, she realized that Harry had done this to distracted Marge Dursley. Reaching into her pocket, she quickly pulled out Draco's wand. She had picked up the wand discretely after Draco had been killed. She had hoped to be able to use it against the woman, but Marge had been too vigilant before now, or at least had the gun point on Harry's general direction making it so the young witch didn't dare take a chance.

"_Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!_"

Hermione let the handgun fly past her since she didn't feel comfortable with trying to catch a loaded gun. The ropes flew around Marge who struggled as she raged against the tightening ropes.

Hermione careful stepped over the whimpering bulldog that struggled with it's overweight, and oversized lounge, and quickly joined Harry.

"That was well done, Harry." She looked him over, checking his eyes for any sign of a concussion.

"You know you could untie me," he said as he looked up at her.

Her smile managed to find it's way into her eyes. "But now I finally have you where I want you."

He tried to shrug. "I think our timing is off."

"Indeed it is," spoke a voice down the hall.

Hermione spun around only to have Draco's wand summoned from her hand.

Lucius Malfoy stood at the front of a group of Death Eaters. His face still bore the horcrux entity on one side of his face that gleamed with an evil and terrible intellect.

Harry and Hermione could only conclude that the aurors and Hit Wizards had been defeated or at least had to retreat to regroup. But for them to catch the two teens like that, they must have used some silencing spells and some powerful _notice-me-not_ spells. One of the Death Eaters, Thorfinn Rowle, even had hold to the bound, blindfolded and gagged Amelia Bones who was covered in burns and blood.

"Ah, the Boy-Who-Lived," said the horcrux on Malfoy's face. "It looks like he is also the Boy-Who-Loved."

Several of the Death Eaters chuckled quietly to that.

"Hermione," Harry whispered. "I need you to pour some of your power into me, and then close your eyes and keep them closed. No matter what you hear."

Trusting Harry, and not having any plan of her own, the muggle-born witch placed her hand on his neck. She pushed some of her magic into Harry, hoping that the Death Eaters wouldn't notice it.

Harry, meanwhile, had to keep their enemies distracted. "So, Tom, you've seen better days."

The horcrux ground his new teeth. "Do not call me by that name!"

"You know, it really shouldn't matter where you came from or who your parents were," Harry went on. "It's where you get to and the type of person you become that matter. Of course, that being said, you are definitely one of the poorest people I know."

The diadem-horcrux examined the strange sight of the whimpering bulldog as well as that of the terrified Marge. Leaning in close to the bound, hyperventilating woman, he merely said '_boo!_', and Marge wet herself and fell back trembling.

"It's very fortunate for you that I need you for a while, Potter," the horcrux said, as if nothing had happened. "These others, however…"

With a wave of the Malfoy wand, Hermione was pulled through the air to the feet of the Death Eaters who laughed aloud at her plight. Amycus Carrow grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her to her feet while the others jeered her to her face.

"Ma-master, you promised m-me!" Lucius managed to say.

"Yes, of course, my dear Lucius," said the horcrux from the other side of his mouth. "She is yours to torment and torture. To main and dismember. And eventually to finally kill. I do hope you allow some of your comrades to do some inflicting of their own. Sharing is after all part of what has brought all of us together in the first place."

Lucius decided that trying to answer could be dangerous to his wellbeing. His anger was still so raw at losing his son that he just wanted to inflict pain in others. This girl would be a good starting point. It had the added benefit of mentally torturing the Potter brat as well.

"You could start with the fat muggle," suggested the horcrux. "You should find yourself more powerful than usual. And I'd hate for you to finish off Potter's young lady do to a miscalculation."

Lucius' only response was to point his wand at Marge and bellow, "_Crucio!_" Marge responded by screaming and losing control of her bowels.

Hermione met Harry's eyes. He nodded to her and she knew that whatever he was about to do, it was going to be now. So she closed her eyes and prayed that whatever Harry was about to do, that it would work.

As soon as he saw Hermione close her eyes, Harry began to focus on the magic in his body, willing it to change like it had done during the First Task. He felt the change almost instantly and easily wiggled free of the ropes that couldn't hold him, keeping his wings close to his body so they wouldn't get tangled in the ropes. He was once again in his basilisk/phoenix hybrid form. A few of the Death Eaters that had seen Harry transform into his unusual animagus shape were instantly petrified.

~_Hey, Tom!_~

The horcrux possessed man turned with a snarl on his already twisted face. "I told you to never-" Neither the man or the horcrux had the time to react to what they had seen.

The rest of the Death Eaters, including Atoxica Zabini, had looked to see why their lord had stopped torturing the muggle woman. Each saw the killing gaze of the deadly serpent.

A small, dark cloud seemed to mist out of Malfoy, and faded away into nothing as the horcrux was too weak and unaware to even try to hang onto to this existence.

Harry, for all intents and purposes, collapsed into exhaustion. With his last act, he curled into a ball, tucking his head under his phoenix-wing. ~_You are safe now, Hermione_.~

~_Harry?_~ she responded in Parseltongue. Carefully, she opened her eyes looking directly at the ground, then slowly she took in the scenery around her.

The statuesque demeanor of the Death Eaters gave her confirmation that Harry had indeed transfigured himself. She did have a problem since Carrow still had a tight grip on her hair. She tried to take his wand to use, but it was tightly gripped by him as well. His sister, Alecto, was right next to them, and she had a much looser hold on her wand. It wasn't the best fit for Hermione, but it was enough to free her hair from Amycus.

She did a quick examination of Harry, and determined that he must be in a deep sleep from magical exhaustion.

Seeing the bound form of Director Bones, Hermione hastened to take off the woman's blindfold and explain what had just happened.

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**_AUTHOR's_** **_NoTeS: _******

_Sorry about the long wait for this chapter, but at least it is a long one, and I wrapped up a lot of things. I considered splitting it into two chapters, but I decided to have most of the action sequences together._

_And yes, the horcrux and the Death Eaters all got a good look into the basilisk/phoenix's eyes so they are death. Only a few Death Eaters, those not in that hallway, survived. Yes, I had planned to have Harry use his unique animagus form on the Death Eaters for nearly a year._

_I enjoyed expressing the conflicting feelings of Narcissa as she went through everything._

_Let me know what you think._


	34. Chapter 34

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts ** **Chapter 34**

By Ordinaryguy2

**4:28 PM**

**Monday, January 16, 1995**

**LEAKY CAULDRON, LONDON**

Ron stormed out of the floo, nearly tripping over Harry who had gone before him.

"I can't believe that they'd do this? After all you've done! It's such…"

"It's flagrant injustice!" Hermione proclaimed as she reached down to help Harry to his feet.

Harry said nothing as he took the hand of his girlfriend as well as that of his godfather, Sirius Black as they helped him to his feet.

"Have you ever known the Wizengamot to get anything right?" Sirius' grin was forced, but he was there for his godson.

They cleared the entrance of the floo in time for Harry's aunt, Petunia and Dudley to come through. Dudley had tumbled through first, landing almost the exact same way as Harry had, but the boy had got to his feet in time to help his mother step out of the floo, not that she was going to fall.

"Is that your entire party?" Tom the barkeeper stood next to the floo with a sad but friendly smile.

"Yes," stated Remus. The werewolf was using his wand to clear the soot off the new arrivals.

"Very well." Tom used his wand and cast a quick spell on the floo entrance and another at the door leading to muggle-London. "That should slow down any reporters following you for the time being."

Harry gave the bartender a curious glance. "How did…?"

"The whole thing was being broadcast on the Wizarding Wireless Network," he responded, nodding to the radio next to the bar. There were several patrons in the building, but Tom must have said something to them before they arrived as none of them stood to greet them. And perhaps they were also ashamed at the moment for being wizards. "Can I… offer you anything?"

"Thank you, kind sir," Petunia said, diplomatically. "We have urgent matters to take care of, so we must be off."

Tom nodded. He was curious. But he knew these people had just suffered some of the most blatant treachery he had ever heard right over the radio. No, he would keep his questions to himself. And any reporters that came asking about them would find themselves banned from his facilities. Already he heard several thuds from people trying to enter through his floo system.

Petunia led the way to the brick wall entrance to Diagon Alley, her stride quick, but not enough to leave anyone behind. Sirius, Dudley and Harry were still limping some from the wounds they had obtained during the Yule Ball fiasco after all.

"Can someone please tell me where we are going in such a damn hurry?" groused Sirius.

"No time for that," Petunia proclaimed, though she did exchange a conspirator wink with Hermione. "All will be explained, unless you lag behind."

"But-"

"Sirius," Hermione interrupted. "Do you want to be a part of the biggest prank to have ever been played in all of the United Kingdom, or not?"

"A prank?" asked Dudley. "After what just happened at that Ministry building?"

"Dud," Harry began. "One of the things I learned over the years, is that if Hermione plans something, there's a damn good reason for it." For that, Hermione rewarded him with a quick kiss on his cheek.

Sirius was now more eager than ever. If there was one thing he understood, it was that a good prank can lead to great revenge. And be highly amusing as well. His approval of Hermione being in a relationship with his godson rose even higher. Still if frustrated him that neither Petunia nor Hermione would tell him what this prank was as they walked toward Gringotts.

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The day at the Wizengamot had started early as the subject of the day was to deal with the matters that had occurred at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Yule Ball. They had been fortunate that as they were witnesses for much of the material being covered that they had seats reserved for them.

Samuel Kingson, Terence Prewett, Phineas Diggle and several other squibs that were higher in the chain of command were all brought out together for trial. All were dingy and unkempt in their appearance, sporting various bruises on their skin. The prosecution recounted the events leading to the squibs overtaking the students and teachers and various other representatives at the Yule Ball. The defense was led by a team of muggle-born lawyers of Tippet, Fine, Goldstein &amp; Spenser, that Petunia Dursley had hired herself. They were sympathetic to the squibs, even if they did not approve of their actions. Still, Petunia was determined that the squibs should have a fair and thorough defense, which the muggle-borns totally agreed with, having seen the underside of pure-blood bigotry all their lives.

Hans Goldstein had opened the defense by having several students brought forward and having them describe the actions of the squibs. He also asked it any of the squibs went out of their way to harm or kill anyone. It was verified that there had actually been no fatalities in the Great Hall (_minus the Weird Sisters_), until the Death Eaters had attacked. And any serious injuries had been quickly treated. What surprised most people was that Severus Snape had actually spoke up for Samuel Kingson, and also to the amount of loyalty potions that had been found in the blood of Vernon Dursley. In fact, it was determined that Vernon's sister, Marge, had somehow managed to double dose her brother with loyalty potions keyed to her. With the amount of loyalty potion that she knew that Samuel had given him, Vernon would have died from overdose if he hadn't been so obese. When Harry quietly asked Hermione why she thought Snape had spoken up for the man, she stated that blood was thicker than water. That both men had been rejected by the Prince family, and that Snape probably felt some kinship to the man despite having been on opposite sides of the gambit.

The prosecution actually called Petunia forward to testify under veritaserum. She held her head up high as she came forward and sat in a normal chair as the potion was administered. She quickly told that she had had no idea that Vernon could or would be able to legally gain control of Hogwarts by declaring before the assembled people that he was the husband of Lady Ravenclaw, and the guardian of the minor Lord Slytherin, and he accepted all the responsibilities that went with it. Once it was clear that she had no clue about the plot of the squibs or the actions of her husband and sister-in-law, the prosecution reluctantly let her return to her seat. The defense only stopped them long enough to have Petunia say whether or not she approved of the actions of the squibs or her sister-in-law, which she clearly did not though she thought it wrong for the Wizarding world to let such prejudices prevail.

The defense had then called Rita Skeeter to the stand. The news reporter was brought forward and sworn in while murmuring filled the courtroom as an auror wheeled in her wheelchair since she was now missing her left leg. News of Rita's animagus spying technique as a water beetle was known to all by now. Having been transformed into a gargantuan beetle and transfigure with spikes before sending her on a killing spree through the line of squibs and students will do that. As it was, she still kept a veil over her face due partially due to her injuries from when Viktor Krum had stomped her eye in, as well as for the two still permanent pointed horns that jetted out from her cheek bones.

There was little love for Rita in the room, as her body count under the Dark Lord's_ Imperius_ curse had racked up among the highest that fateful night. The defense team, led by Ian Tippet, first had her give a magical vow that everything she said for the next hour would be the truth as far as she knew it, and then preceded to have Rita give a full account of everything she had spied upon that evening, and made it known to everyone that this testimony could also be used in regards to matters discussed later that day.

Rita explained that she went to yule ball to hopefully dig up a juicy scoop for The Daily Prophet. She had been as shocked as anyone when Vernon had made his announcement that made himself regent of the castle. It was even more surprising when the squibs marched into the Great Hall to take the castle in his name. She witnessed firsthand the effects of the magic absorbing substance that the squibs used to quell the witches and wizards while almost being splashed herself a few times.

After the teachers and students had been placed under control, she covered the uproar caused when Nearly Headless Ned came in to tell of the abomination that had escaped it's ghostly captives, and could consume ghosts.

She then told of Ned leading Potter, his girlfriend and the younger Malfoy to a hidden corridor where the Weird Sisters had been tragically and horrifically struck down. And was surprised to learn that the students thought it might have been done by Mad-Eye Moody. It was later learned that the killing had been done by Barty Crouch Jr. who had been impersonating Mad-Eye for the year by using polyjuice potion.

She then went on to explain her accidental encounter with Vernon in the castle halls and had attempted to gain some more information from the man by talking with him.

Suspecting loyalty potions, she had convinced Vernon to summon their house-elf and have it confirm what she suspected. When the house-elf did confirm that he was under loyalty potions, she told Vernon that it meant that whoever gave him the potions could make him turn against his loved ones. Vernon was appalled that he could become a threat to his sister Marge (_though he didn't know at that time that Marge was the one who had given him the potions_). She had then convinced Vernon to have his house-elf get a purging potion to take.

After recovering from the potion, Vernon blamed his sister Marge for what had happened to him and placing his family in danger. And then went to attack the reporter in a blind fury as if she was responsible for his sister's deceit. She had actually had to take on her animagus shape to escape with her life, leaving her wand behind.

Her fleeing had led her right to the people from the Malfoy party who had just arrived at the Hogwarts gates where she told an edited version of what she had learned.

But then, regaining some of her confidence, she had been unable to resist returning to her water beetle form to regain her wand and get more of the story that had been unfolding. But even as a water beetle, she had gotten too close and caught the eye of the abomination that partially possessed Barty Crouch Jr. Worse, the abomination claimed to be He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

She told how Lucius had addressed the thing growing out of Crouch Jr.'s shoulder as his lord, and that while Lucius had pointed out that several of the Dark Lord's servants' children were in the Great Hall, the monstrosity had said he shouldn't be concerned since his own child was there with him. And then she had been enlarged and transfigured to be even deadlier in form before being sent out to fight.

She lost count of all the squibs she had killed and maimed. Some she was sure were students just trying to protect the wounded and give the others a chance to escape. In her own part she had lost an eye and an ear. Also part of her arm as well as her left leg. The healers were still uncertain as to what they can do for her face. Several of the spikes that had been transfigured onto her body seem permanent. But even worse, she felt as if her soul would never be clean again.

The Wizengamot as well as the audience were not totally unfeeling as there were a few places where weeping could be heard.

Before she was wheeled away, Tippet explained that Rita would be having her own trial in a month's time after recovering more from her ordeal with himself defending her. She chose of her own recognizance to come and tell her story so that everyone would know the truth of what happened. That she believed that, no matter what else was decided, the squibs and Vernon Dursley should have what they tried to stop the students from being injured counted in their favor.

Cornelius Fudge had quickly moved to dismiss any charges related to suspected Death Eaters attacking squibs, teachers and students at the Yule Ball. That led to a near complete vote of No-Confidence against Fudge, much to his surprise. When he'd been asked about why he had done such a stupid thing, Fudge faltered before suddenly proclaiming that his late acquaintance, Lucius Malfoy, had had him under the Imperius Curse.

Amelia Bones, who had been then sworn in as a temporary Minister of Magic, was then handed the reigns of the meeting. She placed Fudge under temporary arrest until they could have him investigated and also allow him legal counsel.

Delores Umbridge had caused a disturbance stating that this usurpation of authority was highly illegal, and heads would roll if Fudge was not immediately reinstated. For her grievance, she was given a stiff fine as well as a verbal warning to not impede justice as she was likely to be investigated due to her ties to the former minister. The toad woman had sat gloomily in her seat stewing after that, obviously plotting all sorts of revenge.

The next surprise had been when the prosecution had gone after Phineas Diggle, the squib healer, for conducting what they called inhumane medical practices, both on himself and Percy Weasley. Phineas fully admitted he conducted experiments to try find ways for squibs to have magic, and that his success was very limited. Having house-elves pour their magic into himself several times had shrunk him some, as well as given him bulging eyes and long, pointed ears. He also pointed out he would never have tried his treatment on Percy if it hadn't been for Percy's magical core collapsing.

The prosecutors had requested Percy to the come forward, but his father went instead, and read a letter from Percy who was still recovering from the near-death experience. In the letter, he stated that he did not blame Phineas for what he did, as it did save his life. As for whether or not he was now a squib, he didn't know since the physicians treating him wanted him to wait a few more weeks before trying to do any magic, though they do say it is there. As for any physical deviations in his body, so far only that his eyes seem a bit larger.

Delores Umbridge interrupted the process by proclaiming that Phineas Diggle must be in league with muggles plotting to steal magic from pure-bloods so that muggles could have magic. To everyone's surprise, Phineas laughed at the notion, but said if there were any muggles that could do such a thing, he would love to see their research because they would clearly be leaps and bounds ahead of his own.

Delores had begun to rant, despite being warned by the new temporary Minister of Magic, that people like Phineas Diggle were a threat to all pure-bloods. This had made Phineas laugh so hard he had nearly fallen over. He had then asked that even if that turned out to be somehow true, how would that matter to her since her own father was a muggle-born? The curses, threats, and outright denials were loud and vehement enough that she was given a steep fine by Madam Bones, as well as a verbal warning that the next disruption she caused would have her expelled from the courtroom.

The trial went on for quite a while, bringing up various witnesses as other matters that tied into the debate. Finally, though, Samuel Kingson was allowed to speak. He had gone on to say that despite their show of force, he and his people had no dire intentions. He wanted to force the Wizarding world to deal with the matter of squibs, and how they were treated. He even produced lists of squibs from notable families. The first list covered the names of squibs that had been thrown out by their families. The second list held the names of squibs who had been killed by their own families. Several people in the Wizengamot had protested when their names had been brought up. One went so far as to have a house-elf pop in a mentioned squib from his family that Kingson had declared had been murdered. The terrified, scrawny, battered female squib dressed like a subjugated house-elf did little to enlighten his claims that his family was innocent of wrongdoings.

Kingson had called out for someone in the audience, anyone with decency, to please provide the mistreated squib with sanctuary. An offer quickly accepted by Amelia Bones herself, despite the objections from the abused squibs family.

Once he was able to speak again, Kingson talked of how he, and others like him, had studied genealogy. The discussion on inbreeding being the cause of the rising number of squib births went over as well as a dementor on a blind date. But when he went on to show that usually a few generations later, that squib's descendants almost always became magical again. That brought skeptical murmuring from his listeners. But when he pointed out that some of these revitalized descendants were from lines of wizards and witches that were believed to be dead, and that they could be part of restoring what many believed lost forever to the Wizarding world, excitement began to fill the rows of seats. It had been long rumored and speculated just what wonders were being kept in the sealed vaults of those dead houses. Forgotten tomes, rare artifacts, and treasures untold, all potentially able to be a part of their world again. And then there were the Wizengamot family seats that it would bring back as well.

Kingson also reiterated that he wanted to push for squibs being able to partake in an education at Hogwarts. True, they would not be able to do some of the classes, but they could easily take History of Magic, Potions, Arithmancy, Runes, &amp; Care of Magical Creatures. Plus, the castle was large enough that the squibs could easily take mundane classes like Science, Geography, Literature, and various others in place of the magical classes they couldn't perform in. He was passionate and personable in his oration, showing his own skill at public speaking to be far above that of the prosecutors who looked like they were sucking on lemons.

"Do what you will with me," he finally said. "But I beg you to do right by your castoff descendants."

In the end, he was sentenced to twenty years at Azkaban. The squibs under him were each given ten years, while Phineas Diggle was given life for illegal experimentation.

Harry and several others protested loudly until he was reprimanded by Madam Bones. Reluctantly, he settled into his seat, Hermione trying her best to calm him down.

Marge Dursley had her trial next. Her lawyer was a nervous half-blood named Larry Pincushion, who had been assigned her case by the ministry. Needless to say, she had no real excuses for her actions. Once the veritaserum had been provided to her, she confessed to everything, as well as her reason for doing so: greed.

When the prosecutors asked her if there was anything else, she asked where her Ripper was. Harry answered that stating that once the ton-tongue toffee had worn off the dog, Ripper had fled the castle straight into the Forbidden Forest when it was later learned the old dog had been consumed by Acromantulas.

The next trial surprised most people there as it was for Peter Pettigrew, who most people remembered to be a long dead hero.

The next couple hours covered the revealing of what truly happened roughly thirteen years prior, with accounts of who actually had been the Potters' secret keeper, and how Sirius Black had been framed for it all and never given a trial.

The real scare for people had been when they had been told that Pettigrew had been working with the wraith of Voldemort to try bring him back to life again.

Harry had been called up to the stand to tell of his encounters with the Dark Lord, as well as the encounter with the two abominations that were somehow a part of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry explained that his basilisk-phoenix patronus had destroyed the wraith-thing that had been semi-possessing Marcus Flint, and that it had been able to detect other connections to it.

A little over a week after he had recovered from magical exhaustion, he, Dumbledore, and several others had used Harry's unique patronus to sniff out more of these abominations so that they could destroy them. Hufflepuff's cup in Gringotts had almost started an incident, but it had been smoothed over by Hermione returning the Goblin-made artifacts that she discovered in the Room of Lost Things. The last trail of the abomination had been to an old family manor that had belonged to the Riddle family where they had found a terrified Pettigrew and a terrible infant thing that was the last remaining aspect of Tom Riddle.

The voting on the matter had been quick and Pettigrew was sentenced to be thrust through the Veil at dusk. The thing that had been all that remained of Tom Riddle had been chucked through on the night they had captured him since they didn't want to take any chances with someone trying to aid him.

Sirius Black also had a quick trial under veritaserum, confirming for everyone that he had been truly innocent for the crimes he'd been accused of. Now a free man, he happily went to go sit with his godson to watch the rest of the show.

Bartemius Crouch Sr. was the next trial where everyone learned how his wife had convinced him to save their son from Azkaban by her exchanging places with him. And then there was the whole matter on keeping his son under the _Imperius_ curse for over a decade until he escaped. Healers revealed that Crouch Sr. had undergone several bouts of torture from his son when their roles had been reversed, to the point that Crouch Sr. was no longer sane, and thus he was quickly regulated to the Long-Term Spell Ward at St. Mungo's, until he was to have his sanity restored, in which case he would be tried for his crimes then.

Next came the trials for Geoffrey Avery and Vincent Crabbe Sr. who had fought on the sides of the abominations. True, they originally came to save their children, but they had joined their old master right away. The only reason that they had survived had been because Avery had fled, and Crabbe had fell to magical exhaustion. Both men proclaimed the _Imperius_, but under veritaserum they admitted they had followed Lucius Malfoy's example to submit to the two abominations. Augusta Longbottom used that moment to call into question their prior claims thirteen years ago of having been under the _Imperius_ curse. There had been much squawking about the legality of covering that in their current trial, but it had been put to the vote, and it had passed by almost two-thirds. Reapplying the veritaserum, the two men were asked the question again, this time they admitted to have served their Dark Lord willingly, and that they and the other Death Eaters that had gotten off by huge bribery payoffs.

This started a cascade of outrage from the audience, while also loud denials from the families of many Death Eaters. A few people who were accused were placed under temporary arrest until they could consult with their lawyers, and possibly have their own trial at a later date. Umbridge had been unable to contain her outrage at what she declared false accusations and demanded that Amelia Bones step down so that someone who knew what they were doing could handle this debacle. To the amusement of Harry and several others, Umbridge found herself in contempt as she had been warned about speaking out before. She was silenced and quickly removed from the meeting by two aurors, one of whom was a highly amused Nymphadora Tonks.

It was after a late lunch that the day took a turn for the worst for Harry and his friends. When Albus Dumbledore came before the Wizengamot and the people in the audience, he looked pitiful with his head held low. "My friends," he began. "Today has been a very emotional and thought-provoking day. A great many things have been brought to light. And we have acted accordingly, for which I am grateful, and a great deal of justice has been done. And even new light on areas we had not thought to look."

He sighed as he looked out at the crowd. "It is with a great deal of reservation that I now confide to you a secret that the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts have been keeping for a few hundred years now. It will seem unkind and perhaps even unfair, especially in light of recent events, but please hear me out."

A look of reluctance had crossed his face, as if warring internally over something. Then, after another heavy sigh and clearing his throat, he continued. The tale he told had to do with the two Heirs of the Founders in the late 1700's, Corvinus Gaunt of Slytherin and Grover Rimmer of Hufflepuff, both Heirs of their House. The conniving Corvinus had learned that their ancestors, the Four Founders, had put in place a ruling at Hogwarts, that if two of more of the four House Heirs came together and agreed about something, that they create and enforce decrees at Hogwarts, their authority superseding that of the Headmasters and Headmistresses, the Ministry of Magic, the Wizengamot and other group of authority. Because of Gaunt and Rimmer, muggle-borns were banished from the school. Soon after, the half-bloods bolted for their own safety. Light bases pure-blood families also left. Attempts for mediation were turned back by the two young lords who were enjoying their reign. Finally, Dumbledore told of how the two Heirs had been summoned before the Wizengamot in which they were promised there would be no attempts of imprisonment or corporal punishments. And once they arrived, Gaunt and Rimmer were magically barred from ever going on Hogwarts grounds again, as well as anyone else who bore their name.

The murmurs of the people grew, so Dumbledore spoke louder and with more force. He stressed that the way Vernon Dursley had taken control over Hogwarts (albeit, he was loaded with loyalty potions), the same could be done again, whether with bad or good intentions. He pointed out that in just the short time Petunia Dursley had been at Hogwarts, she was already trying to make several educational changes, as well as some social ones. And thus, for the greater good, those with the name Potter and Dursley must be banned from ever returning to Hogwarts again. He tried to look as if arriving at this decision was hard for him, but Harry could see the twinkle in his eye.

Amos Diggory and several others tried to defend Harry and the Dursleys but most people had at least one close family member at the Yule Ball Battle. As much as they saw young Harry Potter as one of the main heroes, they also blamed him for being one of the Heirs by which his uncle had claimed his authority.

In the end, a vote was called. Dumbledore's gambit was won by a fraction. Many of those that had voted against Harry and the Dursleys looked ashamed, while a few seemed glad to have received some form of revenge for their Death Eater kin.

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**8:18 PM**

**THE GATES OF HOGWARTS**

Albus Dumbledore looked on in dismay. He couldn't believe his eyes as he watched Harry walk up to the gate from the castle with his aunt and cousin. Others accompanied them, but it was on these three that his eyes remained. In the background came Minerva, Hagrid, Sirius, Ron and Luna. Luna, of course, was writing down notes on a small muggle pad with a muggle pen.

"Greetings, Albus," Harry said, coldly.

"How?" the aged man managed to say. Behind him were several aurors and a few allies of his who he had called together when he found himself barred from the castle grounds.

"What? You don't even want to guess?" Harry shook his head as if he were ashamed of the old man. "I guess the bats in your belfry have chased out your brains in your old age. Too bad, so sad."

Hermione nudged him gently. "Behave yourself, Harry."

For his part, Harry did seem a bit sheepish in his response. True, his hurt was fresh, but that didn't mean he could retaliate in such a petty manner. It was one of her primary duties as his girlfriend to make sure he did not learn such bad behavior.

Fortunately, his aunt stepped into play. "Dumbledore, you are no longer wanted or needed here. You have been dismissed as headmaster and are forbidden from coming on the school grounds, including Hogsmeade. Do not challenge us on this matter. As it will inconvenience your brother's place of business, we have the Goblins moving him to another location at our expense."

The old, wizened wizard looked incredulous at the people on the other side of the gate. "You-you can't do that!"

"But we did, old man," Harry said. His face held no humor. In fact, with the way he was holding onto Hermione's hand, the former headmaster would have to guess that the teen was working hard to not express his emotions at the moment.

"But you were banned!" the old man declared as if it would somehow fix things. Behind him, Kingsley Shacklebolt put a hand on Dumbledore's shoulder to calm him.

"Allow me to explain," Hermione said, not wanting to draw this out. "After what you pulled at the ministry, an act worthy of a Ravenclaw dark lord, I might add, we made haste to Gringotts where Harry changed his surname to Slytherin, and Petunia and Dudley changed their surname to-"

"-Ravenclaw," Albus whispered faintly.

"It didn't take long for the Goblins to move everything from the Potter vaults into the Slytherin vaults," Harry added.

"And even less to move the Dursley accounts into that of Ravenclaw," Petunia concluded.

Sirius Black shook his head at the man on the other side of the bars. "Don't try the same thing yourself, Albus. We've made more than enough precautions to keep you out of Hogwarts forever. Not even Fawkes can get you in now. Your need to try control everything was your undoing. You are not infallible. Hell, you were just a man like the rest of us. Only your mistakes are a lot more disastrous."

Amelia Bones strode past Dumbledore until she was right in front of the gate. "I have to ask: what are your intentions? Will you close the school?"

"We said that Dumbledore couldn't come back," Dudley blurted out. "The students can do whatever they want."

Petunia raised a calming hand. "My son means that if the parents want their children to attend Hogwarts, or if they want to pull them out, it is up to them. But Dumbledore will never be allowed on these grounds again."

Dudley flushed at having his words picked apart but said nothing.

"There will be certain conditions regarding the school, of course," she added.

Amelia braced herself for the worst. "And they are…?"

Hermione easily pulled out a roll of parchment from her pocket, and unrolled it. "First, we need to come up with a magical oath that can be used to the relatives of all known Death Eaters. They need to swear to not harm or hinder anyone in retaliation for stopping the Death Eaters, both from the last war as well as concerning the events at the Yule Ball."

Amelia glanced back at those that had accompanied her there. True, most wizarding families were against making magical oaths, but if the wording can be worked out so the intent that Petunia wanted was viable, then that shouldn't be too much of a problem. One of the Unspeakables that had come with the Dumbledore party nodded his agreement that it could work.

"Anything else?" Amelia asked, knowing there would be more.

"The teachers will be required to take magical oaths to be fair and polite with all students. And that the safety of the students must come first."

Amelia blinked. "I'm not about to argue about that," she said. "I've had my own opinions on that matter blocked for a long time."

"We will also be updating the classes," Hermione said, firmly, letting her tone state that her word was final on that matter. "We can do a full disclosure as to what that all will be later since it will mostly affect students next year."

Amelia nodded for her to continue.

"The Board of Governors, such as they are, are dissolved. A new body shall be formed. One that will have members from all the Houses and blood groups. But they are to provide ideas, not to have control over things. Hogwarts needs to progress to flourish, and good ideas on how to bring those about will be most welcome."

"These seem like all very good ideas that we can work with," Amelia said, hoping that this was going to be just that easy.

"I'm glad you think so." Petunia gave Dumbledore a stern glare. "After what was pulled in the Wizengamot today, we have no problems adding a few more demands."

Amelia winced. "I was not for that, or aware it was going to take place."

"Which is why we are willing to talk with you," Petunia clarified. "If you were that Fudge idiot…" She waved a dismissive hand. "Basically, we have seen some of the intense prejudices of the elite pure-bloods, and we are concerned for the squibs that they have in prison."

Amelia hesitated. "I'm not sure-"

"We want their sentences reduced by half," Hermione blurted out. The unfairness of the history of squibs had borne down on her with extreme rancor over the waiting weeks before the trial. "It's non-negotiable. Also have Mr. Diggle's conviction brought down to five years instead of life. And since they are squibs, they should be held in a muggle minimum security prison. And absolutely no dementors."

"That may be a problem. They attacked the school. They took hostages."

"While that is true," Luna spoke up, but her writing continued. "The squibs went to great lengths to make sure that no students were seriously injured or killed. They wanted their plight known. If they tried to have a protest march in Diagon Alley, they just would have been arrested and abused horribly before being tossed away again. Some might have even been killed to make an example to the others. While the method used by the squibs do warrant punishment because what they did was detestable, we just do not agree that it should be to the degree that the Wizengamot want. Squibs are not Death Eaters, IRA radicals, Nazi fundamentalists or Islamic extremists. They are people worried about other squibs. If you want to take an initiative to help, you will conduct checks on Wizarding homes to look for hidden squibs that might be abused or have been murdered." She paused in her writing and looked the new Minister of Magic directly in the eyes. "It is not a shame to have a squib in the family; but it is a shame if you treat them neglectfully or horribly."

Amelia found herself nodding. With the squib group being sentenced today, she could only imagine the abuse squibs kept in Wizarding homes would be subjected to by certain families. No, she would have to form an elite squad of aurors to take this matter head on. She already had a list of squibs still being kept in their family homes thanks to the intel that Samuel Kingson had put together. That information could be used to help her get a jump on helping those particular squibs before too much escalating abuse or complaining could be done. And by that time she would have enough evidence to put away some of the viler members of society that were not outright supporters of Voldemort.

A thought crossed Amelia's mind. "And what of Vernon's sister?"

Petunia and Harry shared a look. "Azkaban," they said at the same time.

Dumbledore's brain started to engage again. He turned to Amelia. "You aren't planning to just do as they stay?"

Amelia looked from him, and then back to Dumbledore. "It seems like a hell of a deal."

"But you can't let them stay at Hogwarts! I explained the danger! The Wizengamot voted! They have to be removed! I have to be able to get back to Hogwarts! I am the headmaster!"

"I'm afraid not," said another form that stood behind Petunia. "I'm the new headmistress."

"Minerva?" Dumbledore stared at her in incomprehension. "How could you betray me like this?"

"Me betray you?" she asked incredulous. "I believe that it is the other way around, Albus." Her eyes were livid and hard as she stared at him as if she were a basilisk trying to kill with her eyes alone. "You placed those damn repressing rods in me, making me more obedient and loyal to you! You turned me into your personal stooge!"

Dumbledore faltered and had to grab a hold of the bars of the gate to keep from falling. One of the aurors moved to help him, but Amelia motioned for him to stay where he was.

"You had so many rods in Harry that he might as well have been a pincushion! You regulated his moods, his memory, his loyalty, and his magic! As it was, his magical core began leaking all over the place after they'd been removed! You could have killed him or made him a squib!"

"I-I… It was for the grea-"

"Stop spouting that tripe! Your repeating that over and over again certainly won't make it true!" Tears now freely flowed down her cheeks, as she looked at the man and mentor who she had considered her friend. "You're just a manipulative, old fool who thinks far too highly of himself."

"Minerva?" Amelia stepped closer to the gate, two of her guards following her step for step. "These rods you are speaking about, are these items from the war with Grindelwald?" She was hoping she was wrong about what they were talking about. Otherwise, this would be a whole new scandal that could be nearly as big as the one they were already trying to undo.

"Yes!" Minerva blurted out before Dumbledore could deny anything. "My husband worked with several Unspeakables on trying to understand and undo the damages caused by them. Shortly after he passed away, all his work he had accumulated disappeared! I had assumed the Unspeakables had collected it to keep it out of anyone's hands. Evidently, I was wrong as to who had stolen it."

Amelia turned to the Unspeakable who had accompanied her to Hogwarts. "Can you confirm any of this?"

There was a brief pause before the Unspeakable spoke. "There was a collaboration of effort made with various people who were knowledgeable enough to help. One was indeed the husband of Headmistress McGonagall. As to his work, I do not have an answer at this time as to what became of it. I could check the archives of the Unspeakables, but I will not be able to answer until I consult with my superiors."

"And they may confirm or deny; either of which could be an outright lie." She groaned at the promises of a political life. "This is why I just liked being in charge of aurors and enforcing the law instead of all this political nonsense." She looked over Kingsley Shacklebolt who gapping like a fish.

"Kingsley, I think we have to take Dumbledore into custody until we can clear some of this."

Kingsley's eyes darted between Dumbledore and Bones for a few seconds. "I… I don't know if I can do that, Madam Bones."

Amelia's head snapped towards him. "What do you mean you can't…"

People shifted nervously as a few let out startled gasps. Amelia stared at the auror who seemed to be having an internal struggle. With reflex she worked hard to keep razor sharp, she stunned Kingsley and caught him with another spell before he could hit the ground, keeping him levitated.

Amelia turned back to Petunia. "I do apologize. But it appears that… quite possibly… that some of my aurors may have compromised by Dumbledore. And since they are routinely checked against loyalty potions and the like, the possibility of these repression rods could be a factor." She swallowed in anger and well as embarrassment. "You evidently have a way to detect and remove these things. Could I trouble you to examine Auror Shacklebolt for me?"

The remaining aurors had Dumbledore surrounded, but the man seemed almost oblivious of them as he clung to the gates as a means to stay on his feet.

Petunia, of course, offered to examine the stricken man, and had a mournful Hagrid open the gates to have him brought in. One pure-blood auror proved to be idiotic enough that he tried to use the moment to charge in and regain the castle on his own initiative only to have the wards thrust him back fifty yards into a pine tree. He'd been lucky enough to be knocked out since that way we didn't feel his cracked ribs or the branch sticking through his arm. One of his colleagues quickly cut him down and portkeyed with him to St. Mungo's.

No one else was stupid enough to make such a stupid mistake. As it was Hagrid stood to block anyone else entry to the school grounds.

Petunia proved gracious enough to still examine Kingsley. Minerva quickly used her wand to transfigure a rock into a stool for the auror to sit on. With a heavy sigh, Petunia stepped up behind the man and waved her hand to knock away a few wrackspurts that hovered about his head. She found only one thin rod in his head, which she placed in a specially made case that Minerva provided for her. There were no rods around his spine, not that she expected to find any since that would have meant his magical core was being dampened. But Kingsley had several rods around his heart which explained the man's unwavering loyalty to Dumbledore and the reason why he'd been unable to move against the wizened wizard.

Minerva closed the lid on the case when Petunia had finished. Though she and the others could not see the rods, she gave the case a shake which rattled proving there was something inside. She handed the case through the bars of the gate to the Unspeakable who nodded his thanks in silence to her.

"Since the rods are of a metaphysical nature, I've coated the inside of the box with a resin that my husband created. It will contain the rods inside the box for seventy-three days. After that, the rods will simply slip through the box and just be pulled down to the Earth's core unless they are moved to a new box with fresh resin inside it. I will owl you the formula to make the resin later today."

The Unspeakable nodded. "Please address it to Unspeakable Query."

Behind McGonagall, Kingsley still sat on the stool, patting his chest while his mind tried to work things out. He felt ashamed, confused as well as betrayed.

"Thank you, Lady Ravenclaw," began Amelia. "I hope you don't mind, but if it is all right by you, I may have a few more people for you to examine in the next couple of days." She was relieved when Petunia nodded to being agreeable with that.

Turning her attention, Amelia stared daggers at Dumbledore. "Albus, it may be hard to prove what you've done to Kingsley, but I will do my best to see you punished for this to the full extent of the law."

Harry blinked in surprise and raised his hand. "That reminds me of another thing I want brought up, Madam Bones."

It took her a moment, but Amelia did manage to turn her attention to the teenager.

"Uh, well, I think that Dumbledore might have had quite a bit to do with my godfather never having a trial all those years ago. And having him locked away in Azkaban when he should have been taking care of me instead of my aunt, who Dumbledore wanted."

Sirius nodded solemnly. "I think that was so he could make himself Harry's magical guardian. He used that to keep control of Harry. And while at Gringotts we learned Dumbledore had been pilfering money over the years. Mostly to boost his political agenda or to block Malfoy and other Death Eaters. He'd also spent an obscene amount on flashy robes for himself to keep his image up."

Amelia shook her head, her mind reeling at the implications. She herself had thought Dumbledore to be the magical guardian of the Potter scion, and had agreed to a marriage contract between Harry and her niece almost three years ago for political advantage. But now that contract wasn't worth the parchment it was written on. She was somewhat glad of that since Susan had been very upset to learn what her aunt had done. True, Harry may have been a great catch, but ever girl wanted to have a say about the boy that they planned on spending the rest of their life with.

"Also," Petunia spoke up while going to stand next to her nephew. "He dropped off Harry in a basket in the middle of the night on our front step with a note attached. It was the beginning of November! And he had an unbandaged wound on his head! A wound that seemed impossible to treat! It probably needed magical attention which we could not give him! Not to mention all the repressing rods I found on myself and Dudley that forced us to dislike and mistreat Harry over the years!"

"And he bound our magical cores so we couldn't go to Hogwarts!" Dudley blurted out, his face red with anger. His mother brought him into a sideways hug to calm him down.

"How can this be happening?" Dumbledore said, his voice finally loud enough for everyone to hear. "I'm the headmaster. Only I can guide in the new generation of wizards and witches. No one else can-"

"And people with megalomania should not be a headmaster at a school," came a cold voice of newcomers walking down the road from the castle.

"Severus?" Albus looked up hopefully.

The potions master coming down the path followed by Neville who was pushing a wheelchair with Alice Longbottom sitting in it and the Sorting Hat on her head. Neville's grandmother stood proud as she walked beside her grandson. Just behind them came several house-elves that were using their magic to levitate a large portrait.

"Your schemes have been undone," stated Snape. "Your crimes exposed. It's time for you to acknowledge that facts. You are finished, Albus. Have the good grace to admit defeat."

Petunia spoke to Amelia. "Professor Snape also turned out to be influenced by various repressing rods."

"As if my life had not been hell enough," muttered Snape.

"The children of Death Eaters needed someone they felt safe to confide in," Dumbledore said as if that was reason enough to muck around with the attitudes and mindset of another person.

"And such a person needed their supreme allegiance to you? Balderdash!" shouted the portrait.

The wizard's weary eyes turned to the portrait, not even comprehending why anyone would have a portrait brought outside. Almost instantly, Albus' head jerked up upon recognizing the features of the wizard in the portrait from pictures in some of the oldest books he's come across. "Salazar Slytherin!" he gasped, his breath rattling in his throat. Behind him, those that could hear his exclamation made similar gasps.

"Ha! Ha! He did recognize Salazar!" chuckled the Sorting Hat. "That's five galleons you owe me, Black!"

"Damn Dumbledore is even making me lose bets," Sirius grumbled.

An epiphany hit Dumbledore hard. "He's the reason for this! He's behind all of this!"

The bald wizard in the portrait gave a slight shake of his head. "You give me too much credit. I have only been a minor player involved in this matter. In fact, I would still be in my hidden quarters down in my Chamber of Secrets if it had not been for two of your professors, Snape and Flitwick, who managed to discover me. And before you ask why no one told you of my discovery, that blame would land at the feet of your imposter teacher of the Dark Arts: Barty Crouch Jr. if you must blame anyone. He had snuck in, stunned and then _obliviated _both of the men of my existence. He took me to be a prize for his master. It was most amusing to play games with his mind. I easily made him quite paranoid about his master's intentions."

"Salazar Slytherin is a dark wizard!" Dumbledore shouted. "He will run the muggle-borns out of the school!"

"Nonsense! I'm muggle-born myself!" snapped the portrait. "I just had the good fortune of being adopted into a wizarding family shortly after becoming an orphan. It's why I have always held strong opinions about muggle-borns needing to be raised by wizards and witches. It was for their greater good to be in an environment that would not automatically feel threatened by them. The muggles have always been leery of what they do not understand. Any one of them could easily expose the existence of wizards and witches leading to killings of both muggle and magical."

"You can't trust him!" Dumbledore pointed with a shaky hand. "He is known as the most conniving wizard to have ever lived."

"Ha! Godric used to say that when we played cards! Such a poor loser! His game was chess. He and Rowena would lose themselves for days playing some times. But I think this is more of the matter of the pot calling the kettle black. Wouldn't you say so?"

"That is a very apt point," the Sorting Hat said from atop Alice Longbottom's head. Alice sat in her chair, cheerfully folding some papers into various origami shapes, some of which Augusta had magically animated for her daughter-in-law. "In fact, as I have been trying to piece together Alice's memories, I have found that it was Dumbledore who suggested that the Longbottoms use Barty Crouch Jr. as their secret keeper of the _Fidelius_ charm on the house they were staying in. That leads me to wonder whether or not Dumbledore knew that Barty was already a Death Eater at the time."

Severus stared at the man he had served so faithfully for so long. "I do not know myself. I didn't learn about Crouch Jr. being a Death Eater until Karkaroff's trial a decade and a half ago." He paused thoughtfully. "I suppose I might have discovered that bit of information only for Dumbledore to _obliviate_ it from my memory."

Amelia could see that things were only going to keep going south for the former headmaster. "I'll be sure to ask him when we question him back to the DMLE."

They were all surprised when the old man suddenly seemed to slip down the bars of the gate and hit the ground. The aurors rushed forward, some staying back to see if this was a trick.

"Madam Bones, he seems to be having some kind of fit. It may be a stroke."

The others moved closer, but not close enough to interfere.

Albus could only stare up at the people surrounding him. He knew his health wasn't the best. He'd relied on the Elder Wand to keep him from any serious health problems for so long, he wasn't sure how he'd do without it. The Elder Wand itself was only a stick now since it had landed in a puddle of magic absorbing gel at the Yule Ball fiasco. He wasn't sure anything else could save him at this point. For a moment, he'd wished he'd made his own horcrux. He was instantly ashamed at such a thought, and made him wonder if he had gone too far in some of his plans. The world around him seemed to be farther and farther away until blackness finally claimed him.

Outside his awareness, aurors were scrambling. Amelia ordered them to portkey Albus to St. Mungo's, and to keep him under surveillance.

Everyone agreed to come back to the gates in three days' time to discuss how matters were moving.

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**December 25, 1995**

**HOGWARTS**

Harry put down his copy of _The Quibbler_ at the table. He had been reading Luna's column in which she revealed that the Unspeakables have agreed that Delores Umbridge was indeed reverting or evolving (_depending on who you asked_) into a hag. She had been allowed to be interviewed by three Unspeakable researchers who explained that it was still unknown how witches succumbed to be hags. The vast majority of hags were pure-blood witches, but Umbridge proved to be the first half-blood hag in nearly a hundred and fifty years. There were speculations as to heredity traits combining with specific potion ingredients or having been exposed to various dark rituals or cursed items, but so far nothing was proving to be conclusive. There were also theories that Bellatrix Lestrange may have also started the process to become a hag. She had been moved to a lower cell at Azkaban away from Dementor exposure so that she could be studied more thoroughly.

Taking a final look in the mirror, his mirror image gave him a thumbs up in regards to his appearance.

"C'mon, Harry!" called Ron. "They're waiting for us downstairs."

The two hurried down to the Common Room where Hermione, Dudley, Luna, and several other students had gathered.

"It still feels so empty here," Harry commented as he glanced about the room. The beginning of his Fifth year at Hogwarts had started out with the unusual precedent of having the largest number of new students in over two centuries. Most of those students had been eleven-year-old muggle-borns, but there had been quite a few older students as well. Harry and his aunt had forced or '_encouraged_' the Ministry to stop its policy of binding the magical cores of the excess number of muggle-borns. It was a despicable policy they had discovered that pure-bloods had long ago established so that the number of muggle-borns at Hogwarts would not exceed that of the pure-bloods. Amelia had gone a step further and had it so that older muggle-borns that had had their magical cores bound could have their magic released and attend Hogwarts if they chose to do so. There had been eighty-three eleven-year-old muggle-born students that September. There had been fifty-nine twelve-year-old first time muggle-borns. For the thirteen-year-olds, there had been fifty-one. And there had been forty-six fourteen-year-olds. Thirty-two fifteen-year-olds. Thirty sixteen-year-olds. Twenty-three seventeen-year-olds. There were even some evening classes for adult muggle-borns who were interested in learning how to use their magic. And while having their magical cores bound for so many years had crippled it to a degree, it was still magic, and the general consensus was that magic was awesome. The school was also conducting a trial run of having ten squibs students for classes that didn't require magic being performed. The rest of the time they would have squib teachers teaching normal muggle classes for them.

It had been a struggle to get enough teachers to cover everything, but with large hiring bonuses and some advertising overseas, they soon had a decent pool of applicants to choose among. And it helped that they hired three teachers for each subject. Remus Lupin was one of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers as was Severus Snape and a French witch that came recommended by Fleur Delacour. Magical History had to be completely redone since Binns had been consumed by one of the abominations. The teachers brought in included a muggle-born, a half-Dwarf, and the portrait of Salazar Slytherin. Wizarding history was taught side by side with the history of muggles so that correlations could be made where the two worlds intersected and the results that followed. The histories of other races were now also being covered as well. Salazar handled the history of his time period and the formation of Hogwarts. Divination was remade into a class for students that could prove they had a talent in that field. Sybill was no longer a teacher, but she did become the apprentice of a Romanian gypsy witch who did have the talent and was willing to teach Trelawney and the other five students at the school who had the gift. Hagrid had returned to his job as the gamekeeper which he loved now that it included the dragons that had stayed over from the Triwizard Tournament. Plus, as an added bonus, one of the new Magical Creatures teachers had brought along a young injured griffin that they were raising. Hagrid did lead a few tours into the Forbidden Forest with a few centaurs as guides/guards. Muggle Studies was now taught by five squibs and also with Petunia as an assistant teacher. The greenhouses had been expanded, and a teachers brought in from Brazil, Australia and Laos, each bringing with them magical plants they thought every wizard should be familiar with.

Needless to say, Hermione was loving the changes and new challenges to the school.

Neville was currently sitting in a loveseat with Luna as they quietly discussed things among themselves. Dudley was at the portrait entrance greeting Lavender who had just returned from her home so that she could be at the festivities. Ginny was in a corner snogging shamelessly with Dean; Ron was doing his best to ignore them, but his face was just turning redder and redder.

"Harry! Harry!" Colin Creevey hurried across the room with his brother, Dennis, only a few feet behind him. He stopped in front of Harry slightly out of breath. He held up a book that Harry was all too familiar with even though it had only recently come out in bookstores. _The Fight For Hogwarts_ had been a project that Hermione had worked on with nearly every spare minute she had. She had been fortunate that Bathilda Bagshot had offered her advice and proofread for her. They had politely argued over a few facts and point of views, but nothing that hindered their working together. Hermione had even contacted Rita Skeeter and had her submit three chapters on her insights that terrible evening. The portrait of Salazar Slytherin had written the opening for the book, and had even done a chapter on his interactions with Barty Crouch Jr. and his disappointment in the bigoted mindset of the students in his House.

"Hermione mentions me in her book!" Colin exclaimed. "I mean, I was only using my camera to temporarily blind people attacking us, but she put it in here!" He held up the book. "Can you believe it? I'm in a book!"

Harry nodded and kept a smile on his face. He'd actually had several people come up to him also surprised that they were mentioned in the most recent best-selling book in the Wizarding world. "You stood your ground and used what you had available to defend yourself with. Actually, it was braver because you were disorienting the enemy so other people could take a shot at taking them down. You had little to no defense, but you still sought to help others."

Colin gulped. He'd opened the book randomly only to see a picture of Rita Skeeter as a monsterized water beetle charging across the Great Hall with a squib impaled on one of her horns. Colin had given Hermione first choice of what pictures she'd wanted for her book even though _The Daily Prophet_ had offered an obscene amount for them. But he wasn't going to let that newspaper rag censor and twist what he'd risked his life for. They might have even tried to make it look like the Death Eaters weren't trying to kill them all.

"You okay, Colin?"

"Um, yeah. Sorry. I still have panic attacks every now and then. But I'm good. Really."

Behind him, his brother, Dennis, gave him a look of concern.

"Oh!" Colin perked up. "Say, I was going to see if I could get everyone who was there to sign my book. Would you mind? Dennis', too?"

"Uh." An uneasiness came over Harry as he looked at the hopeful eyes of the two fanboys. "Actually… that might be considered tactless to do on the anniversary of the Yule Ball battle."

Both boys' eyes widened in alarm. "We didn't mean…! I wouldn't…! Oh no!"

"Look," Harry said, holding up a hand to stop them. "Come see me tomorrow and I'll be happy to sign it for you. Hermione, too. Just don't ask anyone else tonight. We may be celebrating our winning, but for some people, their feelings will be running high after having lost friends and family members. But tomorrow, well, I doubt that you will be the only one seeking autographs."

Colin and Dennis looked relieved. "Thanks, Harry. We'd have really put our foot in it if you hadn't told us that. I can't believe we were about to make that mistake. Dennis and I were just looking at the list of those who had died, too." He gave a shudder, glad that most of the students in his year had not been able to attend the ball since they didn't have dates who were of age. "We'd better put our books back in our rooms. We'll see you in the Great Hall later." The brothers ran off to the stairs and Harry breathed a breath of relief.

When Hermione came down from her dorm a minute later, Harry felt his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her.

"Are you trying to catch flies?" she asked, her tone full of mischief.

"What?"

"You need to close your mouth."

Flustered, Harry blushed. "Sorry. Shall we go down to the Great Hall?"

The main group of students made their way down the staircases, the staircases lining up perfectly to where they wanted to go. When the Sorting Hat had informed Harry and Petunia about the many layers of spells from previous headmasters and headmistresses to try control the various of the functions of the castle, and how it had resulted in the castle being unable to perform its various functions to the extent it was supposed to, the two Heirs had the spells removed. Now the castle seemed brighter and more compliant to the needs of the students, not to mention the safeguards and protections it could now implement when needed.

The Great Hall was once again decorated as it was for the Yule Ball the previous year. However, this year was different as this a joint Deathday Party. On the far end of the room was a table filled with spoiled and rotten foods with several ghosts already moving among them. On the opposite side of the room was a similar table, but one with food much more pleasant and palatable to those living. All over the walls were several large portraits with dancehalls that that even the castle's portrait inhabitants could attend the ball this time.

Nearby, Percy was monitoring the food table since he knew the twins were sure to try something to it before the end of the night. It had not been an easy transition for the secretarial Weasley. He'd had to let go of his dreams of rising in the ministry. After Phineas Diggle had saved his life by having a house-elf put some of their magic into him to keep his magical core from imploding, most wizards and witches considered him to be part creature. True, the changes in his features were not that remarkable, and he could even pass for a muggle, albeit one with bulging eyes and somewhat pointed ears. Remus had managed to get some of Diggle's notes, and was conducting some tests to see if Percy had gained any magic similar to what the house-elves have. So for it was proving to be inconclusive, though they had set up a time to meet with Ollivander to see if he had any ideas on the matter.

"This looks like a much bigger Deathday Party than the one Sir Nicholas had," Harry remarked.

"But it's not a Deathday Party for just one ghost." Hermione was already scanning the growing crowd. Pretty much everyone who had been at the Yule Ball a year ago had been invited, and most responded favorably to the R.S.V.P.s that had been sent out.

Viktor Krum was getting punch for himself and his fiancée, Penelope Clearwater. The seeker had retired after the injury to his foot, but now helped train the Hogwarts quidditch teams. Penelope was now in her apprenticeship in Charms, and working on several projects that looked promising.

Petunia was thanking Professor Flitwick for a flowery corsage with pedals animated to move about. Nearly everyone in the castle except for Petunia had already come to the conclusion that Filius Flitwick was smitten with the widow. The professor did not press the matter as she was still getting over her husband's death, and technically she was still one of his students. No one gave them any ill thought. In fact, most were amused over the matter.

Nearby, Frank and Alice Longbottom were talking to Professor Vector. Alice Longbottom had made a full recover thanks to the hard work of the Sorting Hat in putting her mind together. She proved to be easily skittish, but that was a matter for her therapist and her to work out. The Sorting Hat had said he was finished with what he could do for her in the middle of that summer. And since then, the Sorting Hat had found a new home on the head of Frank Longbottom, only being removed to conduct the new sorting of students. Alice had been dismayed at all the years they had lost, but was proud at how Neville had faced off against the squibs and the Death Eaters. Frank was only up to saying one or two words, oft times not relevant to anything. The weak man sitting in the hovering chair seemed to be trying to leave a dream world and yet unable to pierce the gossamer veil holding him captive. The Sorting Hat said he wouldn't be surprised if it didn't take another couple of months before Frank knew they were there.

Neville and Luna broke away from their friends to go see his folks. Harry said he'd come and see them in a bit, to which Neville nodded. The Longbottom scion and Lord Slytherin had become closer friends over the last year. Harry, Neville and Ron had become dueling companions over the summer break. Harry and Petunia had no problem with students coming to Hogwarts during the summer to keep up their wand skills, in fact they had encouraged it and set up several wand related activities like having a shooting competition for accuracy, transfigured art projects, and the dueling clubs. There were also quidditch and football activities that brought several groups of students and their parents. Basically, Hogwarts was now busy almost all year-round.

Fleur Delacour was there with her family and currently talking with Minister Amelia Bones and Narcissa Malfoy. Narcissa had been one of the few members of a Death Eater family that was happier now than she had been before last year. She still missed her son and husband, though mostly her son. Her husband had pulled too many stupid stunts for her to forgive him anymore, the last of which was being a participant in the events that led to the death of their only son. That spring she had actually been approached by Minerva and Petunia and asked to teach a class on Wizarding customs, but they required her to also take the updated Muggles Studies class so that she would have a better idea where and why the two cultures clashed. Over all, it had been an enlightening experience for her. A few weeks into the school year, she was also wrangled into helping students with their studies. It came as a surprise to her that she felt a sense of purpose again in her life. But she also had another reason to be at Hogwarts.

"Mother!"

Narcissa turned at once as her son Draco and his girlfriend Myrtle floated up from the floor. "And where have you two been?"

Myrtle grinned. "I've been keeping him busy. We've been exploring some of the deeper pipes that go down farther than even the Chamber of Secrets."

"I wanted to explore," Draco explained. "But we couldn't see much of anything in the darkness. Plus, we didn't want to be late to the party."

Narcissa nodded even as she teared up. She knew this was going to be hard. "H-happy Deathday, Draco."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. It hadn't been easy coming to terms with the fact that he was now and forever more a ghost. He'd wakened from his death in mid-April. He didn't want to accept it at first. He'd fled from Myrtle and any other ghost that tried to approach him. They'd given him a day or so to acclimate before sending the restored Bloody Baron to tell him the facts of death. It was a much more subdued Draco that floated through the halls and walls after that. It had taken him a week before he was willing to talk to Myrtle. Myrtle had proven to be a fount of information, especially regarding the events that had occurred right after his death, as well as the trial a few weeks later.

It was almost a month before he tried to talk to anyone living. He'd never heard Pansy scream so loud in his life. His other friends from Slytherin all tried to avoid him making him even more frustrated with his situation. Some even blamed him, and tried to throw curse at him until the Bloody Baron stepped in and scared them senseless. At which point, the baron had given them over to Peeves for a few hours.

Somehow, word of his rising had reached his mother. He was unsure of just what he should say or do once he saw her. Fortunately, she had part of a solution for him, literally and figuratively. His godfather, Severus, had saved some of the unusual mixtures that had occurred when Harry and the dragon had smashed into Hogwarts causing many of his potions and ingredients spill to out all over the floor. It turns old the potions master was quickly becoming well off by selling the ghost suit making brew to rich people who wanted to give some of their family ghosts a more 'living' presence. With some coaxing, she had Draco fly up through a puddle of the strange concoction that seemed to cling to him, making a '_Draco_' suit similar to the '_Myrtle_' suit that Myrtle had accidently made months prior. As it was, he only used the '_Draco_' suit when he was alone, mostly due to fear that someone might try and destroy it.

"Hey, everybody!" Cedric Diggory stepped out onto the stage. Since he had won the Triwizard Tournament, it was decided that he should be the one it introduce the band. "The band is just about ready to start. I hope everyone has their dancing shoes on because things are about to get wild! We've waited a year for this performance, so let's live it up tonight!"

"I'm ready!" called out the Bloody Baron. The Slytherin ghost was once again inhabiting the '_Myrtle_' suit that Myrtle had borrowed to him since Draco wasn't ready to wear his suit in public yet. The Bloody Baron was all dolled up from fancy shoes to makeup. He was living the transvestite dream tonight.

Off to the east wall, Hagrid was clumsily asking Olympe Maxime to accompany him onto the dance floor. Several other couples were seeking each other out when the curtain was opened.

"Ok, here they are! Opening for their first public concert since rising as ghosts, I give you… _The Weird Sisters_!"

Gideon Crumb's bagpipes filled the air quickly accompanied by Heathcote Barbary's guitar. Myron Wagtail sang out loud and clear, with only the difficulty being that he had to keep his head from falling off.

The floor was filled with students and a few teachers as they danced to '_Do The Hippogriff_', '_Magic Works_' and '_This Is The Night_'.

After an hour of dancing, Harry and Hermione moved over to the door leading out into the gardens with were covered by a light coating of snow.

Lee Jordon maned a small table with various items. "Hey, you two. Interest you in some roasted chestnuts?" He pointed to a large glass display of chestnuts with the miniature Hungarian Horntail using it's fiery breath to roast the chestnuts. "We also have other items, such as the Couples Cloak that wraps around two people together. And charmed necklaces that let you clearly hear each other even during the loudest songs."

Harry's eyes scanned over the table. "No prank items?" he asked in surprise.

Lee shook his head. "That would be in bad taste considering the event going on tonight, don't you think?"

Hermione was surprised as she examined the small cache of beauty supplies for any witch who thought they needed to repair their makeup. "I'm glad to see that you have branched out from just pranking items."

"Oh, the twins and I have been selling other things for quite a while now."

"I didn't know that," Hermione said with surprise while Harry bought a reddish Couples Cloak from Lee.

"Yeah, turns out Madam Bones was really impressed with some of the twins' prank item that were used against the Death Eaters and Bugzilla. In fact, in a few days they are giving a private weapons expo for Minister Bones and the Head of the DMLE Shacklebolt, and probably a few Unspeakables."

Harry and Hermione blinked in surprise. "Have they really come up with revolutionary material?" she asked. "Why didn't they ask me for help? I would have loved to have lent a hand. For that purpose at least, not for the joke products."

"Um," began Harry. "I kind of asked them to leave you alone. You were already burning the candle at both ends trying to get your book finished before Christmas. I didn't think it wise for you to get involved with another project." He kept his eyes downcast as he waited for her reaction.

She was rather miffed that she hadn't even been given a choice in the matter, and yet it was nice that Harry was considering her well-being. "Harry, you need to tell me these things. I will listen to your advice on the matter, but I need to make the decision concerning myself."

"So I'm not in trouble?" he asked hopefully, looking up.

"Not as much as you will be if you do it again."

"Right." He grinned in a way that made her heart flutter.

They walked away for Jordan's table with their new Couples Cloak as two new couples came to see the wares Lee was peddling. Stepping outside, Harry carefully put the cloak around them.

"Hmm, they did good work with this one," Hermione said, leaning into Harry.

"I put them in contact with Sirius, who was more than happy to join them in making new items and even reusing a few from his Marauding days." He paused as his hand sought out hers. "Snape has also secretly provided a few items on consignment for them to sell."

"That's Professor Snape, Harry. Now that's got me curious. I wonder which of those items he made."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, well, get used to disappointment. The twins signed some kind of contract where they can't tell people what items were made by him. For all we know, he made this cloak."

"Wait, so he can't be blamed if any mishap occurs with his products?" she asked suddenly anxious.

Harry chuckled. "The twins had him sign a magical contract, and one of the main points was that it couldn't be used to harm someone. Well, unless it was being designed to be sold to the DMLE, of course."

"I still can't believe all the changes in Professor Snape."

Harry nodded slightly. "Yeah, he's still sullen and not the easiest to approach. But he's still tons better after Aunt Petunia took out those repressing rods in him. His hair being clean is a big improvement. It also helps now that he is teaching Defense Against The Dark Arts now like he always wanted."

"I think he's also glad that Professor Hinderman has taken his place as the Head of Slytherin. It has made it much easier for the Slytherin students to accept that things are going to be different from now on."

"Yep," he said. "It also helps that he isn't taking away House points all the time."

They walked in silence for a while as they waked the lighted path to where various ice sculptures had been created by various students and teachers using transfiguration. Dean Thomas had won second place with a statue of a family of unicorns. An older Slytherin student had won first place with an ice statue of a Ukrainian Ironbelly dragon facing off against a Nundu. Harry's contribution was of a Dwarf using a pickax to mine a snowdrift. It wasn't that imaginative, but Harry liked it. Hermione's creation was that of an elaborate flower bed out of ice with animated ice bees that went from exotic flower to exotic flower.

"So," Harry finally said, "what do you think we should do next?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just… in general. I'm mean, we have Hogwarts. And Hogsmeade. We've changed the political landscape, and have already initiated some reforms of biased laws and bills. What do we do next?"

She leaned in close to him as they looked out at a troubling scene of an ice sculpture consisting of three trolls trying to do ballet. It was definitely the work of Fred and George. They even knew the portrait where they got the idea from.

"Well, Bathilda Bagshot has been working on a biography about Albus Dumbledore-"

"Hermione, you promised!"

"Oh, I'm not being included in this project, Harry. I won't write another book for publication until I graduate. Besides, Rita is helping Bathilda with this project. She has lots of material on Dumbledore. Not nearly as much as Bathilda does, but they want to combine their efforts."

"Rita and Bathilda? That sounds like a scary combination."

"I know, right? Anyway, they want to interview me. Well, 'us' really, but I didn't want to commit you."

Harry thought for a moment. "I suppose it would put the final nail in Dumbledore's political aspirations." Harry let his head fall. "If it will stop him trying to undermine us, I guess I could put up with Rita for an afternoon or two." Dumbledore had managed to stay out of prison somehow and continued to try rally opposition against Harry and his aunt. Unfortunately, most of those that agreed with his view were pure-blood bigots. It had been a bitter pill for the old man to join forces with them. In the end it only made him loose more of his long-term supporters. Speculation was that Dumbledore knew too many secrets that people were afraid to oppose him directly. He'd definitely been involved in politics long enough to know where a lot of bodies were buried.

"Actually, it would be Bathilda interviewing us." She looked over and caught his eye. "It seems Rita never wants to see Hogwarts ever again if she can help it."

"I can agree to that," Harry grinned.

"Oh, and you should know that when the book is ready, they want us to proofread it."

He tried to hide it, but he flinched. He worked hard every day to not think of the former headmaster, which was difficult since Harry lived at Hogwarts. And if he had to read a book about the manipulative old man who had covered him in repressing rods and set it up so that he would be raised in an abusive home, he was sure to lose it.

"I don't think I can do it," he admitted. "When I think of all the reasons he came up with for why he did the things he did, my mind goes to all the possible safer, and kinder scenarios that he didn't even try."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be that hard for you." She traced her hand down his cheek. "Do you want me to tell them '_no_' for both of us?"

He gave a shake of his head. "I'll still meet with Bathilda. I think I'll pass on the proofreading. You should still do it though." He gave her a lopsided grin. "I know how much you are enjoying the literary experience."

She blushed slightly, but gave no denial. "Bathilda also wants to talk to the Sorting Hat and Salazar," Hermione added. "It's about possibly writing an accurate depiction of the lives of the Four Founders and the makings of that time period. There is so much that has been lost or misinterpreted one way or another. There are no other magical portraits as old as Salazar. And most of the ghost from the time period have either passed on or refuse to talk about it."

They stood in front of a small ice replica of Hogwarts that was made with such precision that Harry was sure that he saw miniature owls in the Owlery.

"You know, I could ask the Bloody Baron and the Gray Lady if they would give Bathilda an interview. Since I'm now Lord Slytherin, they might consider doing it."

Hermione bit her lower lip for a moment. "No, if you do that, they might take it as a command. I think I should do it myself. That way it will be their choice."

"Problems for another day," he said, as they moved to a scene where a large area had been cleared for a dozen animated snowmen of Headmistress McGonagall's creation were having a snowball fight with each other. A couple of days before, when the exhibit had first been introduced, some students stepped out onto the field to get a closer look. It was only then that they were surprised to learn that the snowmen now saw them as participants in their game. Other students tried it out sometime in groups, or just by themselves. The Weasley twins were quick to see an opportunity, and wagers against anyone crossing the snowy field without getting hit. Of course, magic was not allowed. The twins were taking all the money until Seamus Finnigan had a go. The way he dodged and ran surprised everyone. When asked what his secret was, he had admitted to have become a paint gun fanatic on top of his football obsession. He'd become near impossible to hit. Ever since then, the twins had been pestering Angelina to add paint guns in their quidditch training to help them to become more maneuverable.

"Should we go back inside?" Harry asked.

She quickly nodded. The Couples Cloak was great, but her poor feet were freezing.

The passed several couples on their way back inside, proving that a night viewing to the winter art projects was romantic, or just a way to get away to snog.

"We've made a lot of changes since your family came to Hogwarts."

"Yeah, it wasn't the easiest to transitions," he admitted. "But I think things are definitely improving now. Even Draco's nicer now that he's a ghost."

"That's not funny, Harry."

"I know, but it is true."

The continued on and Hermione leaned against him.

Hermione glanced forward to one of the torches near the entryway. There was mistletoe hung over the entryway, and she recognized the two adults kissing there. "Looks like Tonks had finally wore down Professor Lupin."

Harry faltered in his progress as he realized just who the two people in the entryway were. "Um, should we maybe go another way?" he asked, hoping that she would have an idea of what the protocol was when you accidently come upon one of your teacher's kissing someone.

"Just ignore them and let's get inside. My feet are freezing."

He gave her a look. "Why didn't you just try a warming spell?" He couldn't help feeling bad that he hadn't noticed her cold feet.

"Because I like cuddling with you in this Couples Cloak, silly boy. Now let's get in and get a seat in front of the fireplace so I can thaw my poor feet-cicles."

They snuck passed the two adults with little difficulty. Remus started to pull away when he finally noticed them, but Tonks wasn't about to let him escape, pulling him in for another series of kisses that he quickly gave in to.

"You know," Hermione began, "they aren't they only adults around here that have started to become amorous towards each other."

"Yeah, I've picked up on the growing closeness between my aunt and Professor Flitwick. I think Dudley knows to."

Hermione shook her head. "That's not who I meant. I'm referring to Professor Snape and Draco's mother, Narcissa."

Harry nearly tripped and fell, taking Hermione with him. "What?"

"They're taking it really slow," she said. "Nonetheless, they are spending more and more quality time together."

Anyone wanting to spend quality time with Snape was still proving too difficult for Harry to grasp. "Are you sure?"

"I saw him give her a flower," she simply stated.

"Yeah, but that could just be because…" He floundered for a possible situation that didn't involve Snape expressing romantic feeling toward anyone. It just didn't make sense to him.

"Oh, Harry. Just accept that times are changing. Even the things that you think could never change."

"Some changes can be good," he admitted, pulling her just a little closer. He kissed her cheek as they as they walked up to the fireplace and sat in a loveseat near to the fire. "And some changes can be very good."

**The End**

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**_AUTHOR's_** **_NoTeS: _******

_This story had been a fun ride. I've really enjoyed the twists and turns in the plot. Hopefully my dear readers did, too._

_I think I wrapped up all the loose ends and hopefully everyone will be happy with how it turned out._

_Hopefully I will find my next writing project as interesting as this one way._

_Wish you all well, and thanks for reading._


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